In Her Wake
by Wraithfighter
Summary: What's it like to not be the powerful one? To live in the shadow of someone prophecies are written about? A Shadows of Amn retelling focusing on the experience of an original character, the rogue Arik, brother of Imoen and Kyri, the Bhaalspawn.
1. 1: Escape

Hello everyone! I'm retrying this story again, re-editing it significantly and hopefully actually updating it somewhat regularly. Once I get over my obsession over proper grammar, at least.

So, anyway, please read and review and all that. Oh, and Fair Use protects this, I don't own anything save for my own characters, and even that's kinda iffy. Enjoy!

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"Kyri! Wake up!"

_Im...?_ thought Arik, opening his eyes at the sound of his life-long friend's worried voice, seeing the red haired girl bending over the slumped figure across the way.

"Im, that you?"

"Arik, you're here too?" she said, shifting her eyes away from the slumped elven form, lying in a cage akin to his own, save for the open door. Kyri was clearly in bad shape, looking thin and pale, with more than one bloody wound on her face.

"Yeah. Ky's been out for a while," he said, referring to the friend, elf, sorceress, and Bhaalspawn currently unconscious. "Got a key to my door?"

"No, I only saw the one to Kyri's, sorry. Anyone else here?"

"Joy. Yeah, I think Jahiera and Minsc are nearby," giving a half-hearted grin, "they aren't exactly the quiet types. Got any of those hair things on you?"

"You mean my hairpins? No, but here," she tosses Arik a long, thin nail. "It worked on my door."

"Thanks. Don't help me, either, I need practice." He nods toward Kyri. "I'm not that surprised she's still out. That damn mage was just here; cast a whole volley of spells at her. She... she screamed for a while. I think he was torturing her." He stopped for a moment, closing his eyes and saying, "Thank the gods she blacked out. Some of those last spells..."

"He's... evil. Pure evil. Nothing other than evil would do this..." Imoen said, returning to Kyri's side.

"Don't need telling, Im," Arik whispered to himself. "She'll recover. He's... done this before. Only to her though. Don't know why, other than maybe the obvious," Arik said, referring to Kyri's heritage, and not the elven one.

The lock snaps open and Arik steps out, shivering and infinitely thankful to be out of that cell. Finally free, he takes a good look at Imoen. She looks haunted, tortured, and sporting a handful of ugly scars. "Im, what did..." he said, hesistating, and finally saying, "How are you?"

"I really don't want to talk about it bro."

"Im..."

"Imoen! Arik! Are you two out?" yells their friend and mentor, and something of a mother hen, the druid Jahiera.

"Yes! Keep shouting! I don't think everyone in Nashkel heard you!" yelled Arik.

"LET THEM HEAR US! MINSC AND BOO SHALL TAKE REVENGE ON ALL WHO WOULD IMPRISON US! WE SHALL DESTROY THOSE WHO KILLED DYNAHEIR! BUTTS WILL BE KICKED IN GOOD MEASURE!" yelled the ranger Minsc, another friend and ally, possessing a nearly supernatural strength. Somehow, you could hear it all in capitals.

"Dynaheir's..." Imoen said, choking up on the words, clutching at her unconscious friend and sister even tighter.

"Yes. They killed her in front of me, made me watch. They... they..." said Minsc, stumbling over his words, fighting to remain angry, to not cry.

"We'll get him, big guy. We all have reas- " Arik began.

Kyri's moan broke him off. The Bhaalspawn was in very bad shape, but it seemed like she was finally coming out of it. She was quite attractive, the standard elven figure with the flowing brown hair, but the villain's spells had done a number on her lovely face and physique, marring it with burns, cuts and bruises.

"Kyri! Are you awake?" cried Imoen, shaking her friend, willing her to wake up.

Kyri woke slowly. A powerful sorceress, Kyri had been an orphan as long as she had known, and the discovery of the identity of her father had not helped matters. A daughter of the God of Murder, Bhaal, her powers had come to light shortly after leaving Candlekeep. She had been growing in power ever since, capable of casting powerful spells of destruction without even needing the spellbooks Arik and Imoen depended on. _In other words_, Arik mused_, she's the most useful person in the group right now_.

"Imoen? Where are we?"

"I... I don't know. A dungeon somewhere." Imoen replied.

"Too hot to be Baldur's Gate. Hell, this is hotter than the Nashkel Mines. Probably further south than that. Amn, maybe?" Arik's eyes keep moving about, looking for any sign of their location.

"Or there might not be any ventilation. Or our generous host made it hot in here. Too little information to guess." Kyri shakes her head, trying to clear the cobwebs. "Where are the others?"

"Jahiera and Minsc are over there somewhere," Arik said, pointing to where their voices came from. "Haven't seen Khalid, and Dynaheir..."

--------

Jahiera had long run out of patience. It's true that Kyri's condition is important, as their captor had cast a long series of vicious spells on her. Jahiera had recognized only a few, and figured that the rest were just as much an abomination on nature.

But at the moment Jahiera was still held in a cage, wearing just enough to preserve modesty. She had no way to break the lock open and what spells she did cast seemed to be nullified by the cage itself. And she had a half-naked ranger next door, who seemed on the verge of going insane.

_Well, even more insane, at least._

"No. No! NO! I SHALL WAIT NO LONGER! MINSC WILL CRUSH THEM ALL! THEIR BUTTS WILL BE KICKED SO HARD THEIR BONES WILL SHATTER! NO CAGE SHALL HOLD ME!" yelled Minsc, now thoroughly out of control. He threw himself at the doors of the cage once, twice, three times, and then finally, with a giant clang, the door flew off and slammed into a nearby cage.

"HAHA! MINSC IS FREE! COME, EVIL, AND FEEL MY ANGER AND MY BOOT!"

"Stop you fool! Quit yelling or the villain will return when we are not ready! And get me out of here!" Jahiera yelled.

Minsc paused at his companion's voice and raised his hands to his ear. He stood there for a few moments, concentrating on something unseen to Jahiera. And then Jahiera realized what he was listening to...

"You still have that hamster? How did you... no, never mind. There are questions that should never be asked," she said to herself, fighting a losing battle against the mental images. "Just... just open this door," she said, hand moving to her temple.

"Boo concurs," Minsc replied curtly and, after moving Boo to his shoulders, stepped over and, with almost no effort and a hideous wailing of twisting metal, wrenched the door from its moorings and threw it aside as though it were a twig.

"Well done. Now, follow me. We should corral the others and get out of here quickly."


	2. 2: Breaking Down

"Half dozen dark dwarves, maybe two casters." said Arik, who was kneeling at the corner, using a shard of a mirror to peek around the corner.

The party had been fighting through the underground prison for a few hours now, looking for Khalid and an exit. They had found weapons and half-decent armor quickly enough, although Arik found himself missing the feel of his old blade.

"Think they know we're here?" replied Kyri.

"Oh, yeah, no chance they could possibly know," Arik replied, with a small grin and a hope that Imoen would reply.

"Yeah, it's not like we've been fighting our way up here," said Imoen, tossing back the banter as best she could.

"Killing goblins," Arik bounced back.

"Them crying out when they die," Imoen countered, trying out a small grin.

"I mean, it's not like we tore the door off of any of the cages."

"Or someone shouting at the top of their lungs half the time," Imoen mused, poker-faced as she glanced at Minsc.

"Oh, yeah, that'd just be a dead giveaway."

"Alright, point taken. I meant, do they look ready for a fight," replied Kyri, complaining more as an act than out of any real annoyance.

"Well, they're armed and armored, if that's what you mean. Don't think they know we're right around the corner," Arik replied, still with a grin on his face, glad to see whatever dark cloud was following Imoen to pass, however briefly.

"Okay, everyone ready?" Kyri asks, nods all around meeting her gaze. "Okay, simple ambush play: I'll throw a fireball, soften them up. Minsc, just go charging and screaming and swinging at them, Arik and Jahiera cover his flank. Imoen, try to nail one of their casters to the wall before he can raise his defenses."

"And if they wish to talk instead of fight?" asked Jahiera.

"Then I'll start praying to Waukeen for a million gold to fall from the sky, cause if a bunch of dark dwarves in the dungeon of a evil madman just want to parley, then you just know the impossible is happening." replied Kyri, a false smile wide on her face, the good humor clearly forced.

"Let's... let's just get this over with Kyri." Imoen whispered, loud enough to hear and worrying Arik to no end. He had known Imoen since nearly forever. They and Kyri had grown up together in Candlekeep, him meeting the two girls after his father encouraged him to make friends with the two new orphans. He was a friend and family for them when they had no one else and, a few years later, they repaid the favor when Arik's own father had died. And, through thick and thin, he'd never seen her like this before, all frowns and whispered words.

Then again, she didn't look as she normally did, either. Her hair's dye had worn off, no longer giving her oddly bright pink hair. Where she had looked swift and subtly strong, she now seemed worn and unsure. Her smiles were fake, her eyes darted this way and that, and she seemed to be constantly tensing, as if to run away at a moments notice. The scar was new, too: The remnant of some injury Arik had never seen her take, from her forehead straight down over her right eye, marring those youthful features she prized so much.

If Kyri noticed any of this, she didn't show it, simply saying "Right, okay, I'll go invisible and fire one. You all know what to do."

As Kyri began casting her spells, Arik looked away, trying to not think about everything that was here, that had happened here. Between Kyri's torture, Dynaheir, whatever Imoen was going through, and Arik's own troubles, there seemed to be enough hell for a thousand people over a thousand lifetimes, let alone just the five of them.

What was comforting him now was imagining what he was going to do with the villain once the party caught up to him. He was currently torn between a slow, painful death due to numerous open chest wounds, or a crossbow bolt to the neck, right through the spine, paralyzing him before the villain had a chance to fight back.

Arik always thought himself as a nice, kind, even generous person. Merciful, however, was not on that list. If you're going to fight someone, going to try to kill them, show them no quarter, because they won't share the courtesy. The first thing Khalid had taught him about combat.

His thoughts were broken by three sounds: An explosion, a wide variety of Dwarven curses, and a large, angry Rashemani Ranger yelling at the top of his lungs charging at the enemy.

Kyri had finished the spells, and Minsc had charged, and so the battle began, one of the enemy already down from the explosion. Minsc rushed the central dwarf in the nearby group of three, hammering his sword against the foe's shield, driving him back several paces.

The duergar quickly moved to flank the massive ranger, trying to give their ally a brief respite from the onslaught, giving Arik his opening. He blinked away the tears and moved quickly to Minsc's aid, plunging his sword into a Dwarf's unguarded back, piercing the heavy chain, drawing a retaliatory axe swing that Arik barely managed to leap away from.

This dwarf was faster than he looked, and the next two axe swings were barely avoided, and the next would have bit deep into Arik's side had a brass stud not stopped it. But the dwarf's woud was bleeding badly, and soon the dwarven warrior could not use both shield and axe, not after losing so much blood. Arik feinted low and stabbed up, above the Dwarf's slow shield, and drove the blade into his foe's axe arm, piercing through the armor and cutting into the powerful bicep underneath. Arik's target dropped his axe, and soon departed the land of the living upon a final thrust to the throat.

Arik looked around quickly for another target, but it seemed everything was well in hand. Jahiera had nearly decapitated one. Another had sprouted a number of arrows, launched with great accuracy from Imoen's bow. One of the Dwarven casters looked to have taken more punishment from Kyri, the lance of flame that had hit him in the face now fading, and Minsc had lived up to his reputation by cleaving through both shield and dwarf, killing the final foe in a brutal, yet familiar fashion.

"Two minutes of scouting, a minute of planning, all for a fight that takes almost no time at all," muttered Jahiera, almost under her breath, while using a spare piece of cloth to clean her scimitar.

"You're disappointed?" replied Kyri, with a touch of anger in her voice. "You'd rather it take longer? Maybe a thrilling sword fight, death hanging on every thrust and parry, where the outcome is unknown till the final swing?" she said, her voice heavy with sarcasm.

"I did not say that! It's just that the time beforehand is a waste!" Jahiera snarled back, glaring daggers at her friend.

"You can't be serious! That's the whole point! We set up a good ambush so we can take them down fast, so no one on our side gets hurt!" countered Kyri, her voice matching Jahiera's and staring right back.

"Khalid is still out there! Who knows what torments he is suffering right now! I don't care if our fights are pretty, I just want to get through them and find my husband!"

"You think I don't? He's been like a father to me since Gorion died! I want you to stay alive so you can see him!"

While Kyri and Jahiera were arguing at the top of their lungs, for the third time since being freed from their cages, Minsc sidled over to Arik, who was busy both staying out of it and looting the fallen. "Boo thinks that maybe they should not be arguing so loudly..."

"Tell Boo I agree completely with him. How about you tell them that?" replied Arik, looking over an odd handful of acorns, face carefully blank.

Minsc looked at the quarreling pair, with Imoen hovering in the background, trying to gain their attention, and chuckles somewhat nervously. "Ahahaha, maybe you should. You've known them longer."

"Oh come on, you're so much stronger than them. What could you possibly be afraid of?" Arik said, with a slight smile.

"Boo has made a list, and it is a very long one. I believe he said something about 'a quick death' being the best option." His wide grin morphs into a heavily exaggerated, almost comedic, expression of deep thought. "Hmm, perhaps you can distract them with one of your paranoid deludgions."

Arik groaned. "Delusions," he corrects out of reflex. One of the hazards of the path he chose, being a rogue means always looking over your shoulder, and Arik has great trouble stopping, much to everyone else's amusement. "You know, I was right about 'Koveras.'"

"You also thought that Dynaheir was gnoll spy and that Khalid and Jahiera were agents of Sarevok." he replied, face deadpan serious, or at least as deadpan as Minsc could manage. It almost worked if you didn't look at the eyes.

"Shut up," Arik said, with a small smile. He glances over to Kyri and Jahiera, who were still in the midst of their argument. His face falls, and Arik forces himself to ask what he's been wanting to ask for the last hour, saying "How are you doing with... things?"

Minsc's face hardens, serious and strong as stone, though Arik could see a flash of grief pass over his eyes. "Boo has reminded me of an old saying," the addled giant replies. "'So long as her name is still spoken, then she isn't truly dead.' I will continue to fight in her name, and she will still be spoken of for as long as I live."

"Good saying." Arik replied curtly and sincerely, infinitely thankful that the massive ranger capable of ripping his arms off with hardly any effort had found some ground of stability.

For Minsc's own sake, of course.

The other conversation, however, had not gotten any more civil in the intervening time. Jahiera looked ready to come to blows with the young sorceress, screaming out, "You would have us sit for an hour, bored to tears, just so you could plan out each action in combat to the most minute detail! The victory is important, not the battle plan you use!"

The fury was just as strong on the other side, as Kyri's eye's seemed to glow in power, flaring whenever her temper neared the boiling point. "I want to be bored!I'm tired of this! I want to be in Candlekeep, reading one of those thousand page volumes that are as dry as week old bread! Or maybe just lie in the grass next to the library, staring up at the clouds, doing nothing at all! But I'm here, and I want to get out of here with no one else dying! If that means I need to plan out a battle for an entire day, then I will! So shut up and get over it!"

Imoen looked at them both, and finally says what she's been holding in for so long. "Khalid's dead."

Everyone stopped at Imoen's voice. Minsc, Kyri and Arik were crushed, but Jahiera...

Her face drops, and likewise so does her body. Tears come quickly and freely and a small sound passes through her lips, softer than any could hear. A few seconds pass, though they feel like a thousand, and eventually all she can muster is a weak "How... how do you know?"

"Irenicus, the... our captor, he killed him in front of me. He made me watch..." Imoen started, slowly and quietly.

"Stop," Jahiera whispers, barely audible. The rest of the party couldn't even move, could barely comprehend what they were hearing.

"Forced me to keep my eyes open, wouldn't let me not look. Made me watch the blade..." something in her kept her going, ignoring Jahiera.

"Stop, " Jahiera said, louder now.

"He was awake for it. He wanted me to hear him scream, wanted me to see him die. Then he..."

"Please, stop! Tell me no more! Please, Imoen, just stop!" Jahiera cried at the young, pink haired orphan. But Imoen didn't even seem to hear her.

"He climbed on top of me, he grabbed me and he... he..." Imoen could say no more, collapsing into tears.

Kyri moved to her sister, grabbing her up and holding her tight. "Arik, we need to find somewhere to go," she said, as if from far away, the tiny part of her that was still in control of herself.

Arik just stood there, barely registering the words, stunned by everything, just staring at his sisters, not wanting to cry, trying to will himself not to but feeling the tears form themselves anyway.

"Arik!"

"Right." Arik shook his head, clearing the cobwebs, trying to remember the layout of the dungeon, finding the best he room he could think of. "There's a room we passed a little bit ago, with those golems we dismantled. Only one door, I know I can secure it."

"Good. Help Jahiera up. Minsc."

"Yes, Kyri?"

"You're carrying Imoen."

"Right," he said. He moved quickly to Imoen and, after Kyri reluctantly let go of her sister, he lifted her in his arms. With a tiny squeak, Boo climbed off of Minsc and onto Imoen, and she just held him and stroked his fur.

"Lets go." Kyri stood, uncertainly at first, doing a poor job at hiding a limp. It seemed to Arik that she was hurt a whole lot worse than she let on, trying to be the big, solid hero. Not like it much mattered now, no one was watching.

Arik took the lead and, struggling to support a weeping Jahiera, moved towards the indicated room. He'd endured his own fair share of torture, his body being carved up for their captor's own amusement. Sometimes, it felt like hours under the knife when it was merely a few minutes, and other times he faded in and out of consciousness, and a day would pass in what seemed mere minutes. It hurt all the same though, worse than he used to think something could hurt.

_But,_ he reflected, looking at what remained of his friends, _all things considered, I think I'm the 'lucky' one._


	3. 3: Dig Up

Sometimes a second is everything. Of course, Arik had always known this. Combat is full of those little moments where hesitation is literally the difference between life and death, but he never really understood it until finally emerging from that cursed dungeon.

After escaping that madhouse, after the weeks of torture of all sorts, losing two good friends, the noble heroes were a lost, broken group. That and sheer fatigue was the only thing keeping them back from charging the source of their torment, the wizard Irenicus, who was otherwise occupied with fending off numerous foes.

Perhaps fending off is the wrong word for this. Fending off implies having a chance in hell of losing. Arik had never seen most of the spells being thrown about, the few he _did_ know about were scary powerful and yet none of them seemed to affect Irenicus at all.

So, while his legs were tensing up, readying to run away like a sniveling, but living, coward, and his hands were moving to his crossbow, powered by bravery, anger and that sense of adventure that Arik just knew would kill him one day, his head had finally, finally noticed something important and put the pieces together.

Those thieves that had attacked the dungeon had brands on their wrists, which were very much like those used by the Amnian guards to identify known Shadow Thieves; a group with reach into the Sword Coast, to be sure, but strongest by far in Amn and Athkatla.

The robes on the likely doomed wizards were all the same color, with the same lining, and all with their hoods shrouding their identity. Their number and power were impressive, but what was odd was that they acted as though they were the local law. The only large group of wizards with real authority Arik knew of would be the Cowled Wizards.

And they very much frowned upon arcane spell casting on the streets of Athkatla.

And behind him were two tortured, powerful and extremely pissed off spell casters.

"No casting! Kyri, Imoen, no magic!" Arik cried out in a rush, hoping that he had said it in time.

He wasn't.

Imoen's magic missiles sailed majestically toward Irenicus, getting absorbed by one of many arcane protections, just as Arik cried out his warning.

Kyri's spell was more complex, likely something devastatingly explosive, but she held up, dismissing the magic and looking at Arik with a mix of confusion and barely contained anger.

But the damage was done. Irenicus surrendered not much longer after, more out of boredom than any real concern for his life, and then demanded that Imoen be taken along with him. And the wizards, either through intelligence or cowardice, likely both, quickly complied, and Minsc's sword was, again, only a fraction of a second too late to stop them from taking Imoen.

And then there were four: A guardian without his charge, a wife without a husband, a brother and sister short a sibling. Wounded, winded, and...

Nothing. Arik had nothing left. For the last half-day he'd been fighting with everything he had, just so no other friends of his would fall.

"We... we should go." Arik heard Jahiera say. He was briefly aware of Kyri sitting on her knees only a few feet away, and only then did he realize that he, too, was on his knees, staring into nothingness, his unfocused gaze aimed at where Imoen was, only a moment ago.

"Jahiera is right, Kyri," Minsc said. "Were our foes here, then Minsc and Boo would smite them all, no problem! But" he added reluctantly, "Minsc can barely stand as it is. Rest today, then tomorrow we shall hand out justice to all have wronged us!" His voice fell on deaf ears, though. Kyri just sat there, and Arik...

He couldn't get it out of his mind. He'd heard of such things, read tales of great tragedies and noble heroes losing everything, and he knew that given everything else, all the hell that he'd been through, he should be lucky to get out with his life, not to mention three of his companions, but, logical as that may be, that part of his mind wasn't doing a great deal of thinking at the moment. For all he still had, it was the fallen that occupied his mind.

Khalid, dead. So much Arik knew of life on the road he'd learned from Khalid: where to camp, how to see through lies, how to feign a weakness and the times not to fight fair. Hell, Khalid damn near taught Arik how to fight, at least beyond the stab and pray method Arik had preferred. Certainly no one he'd rather have watching his back.

Dynaheir, too, dead. A good friend, butt of so many jokes, took it all in stride and never really complained. Saved Arik's life a good many times, and even though Arik felt the effects of more than a few of her fireballs, on accident of course, there was no one, save for Imoen or Kyri, that he'd rather have unleashing destruction in his general direction.

And Imoen, his sister, his friend, taken right before him. She was hurting so badly, it was all Arik could do not to just scoop her up in his arms and hold her. She needed so much help, her wounds ran so deep, and her new caretakers likely cared nothing about her.

A strong hand, probably Minsc's, grabbed Arik's arm, pulling him to his feet. Something in his body clicked, his mind too far out of it to even notice, and his feet started to move, all on their own.

_Maybe if I had been more careful about the food,_ Arik though, mind racing while his feet toiled away. _I knew that innkeeper didn't look right. Had to scrimp and save by going to the second cheapest inn around, couldn't just use all that gold we were carrying around. Bastard probably got bribed, put something in the food. Maybe if I trapped the door better, we would've woken up before they managed to take us. Maybe..._

And so it went. His feet and legs moved, keeping in step with the rest of the group, while his mind raced. The party arrived at a tavern, and Arik's hands, all on their own, pulled out three coins, one per room. He followed Minsc up the stairs and into their room.

_Is this inn safe? Is any? It's the damn City of Coin, even the paladins are for sale. Need rest though, can't fight if I'm half asleep._

His hands tugged at the straps on his leathers, but his legs won the argument and Arik fell into the bed, armor and all, his hands deciding all on their own to slide a dagger under the pillow, and then Arik lay there, mind racing, unable to sleep.

He listened to Minsc, who was alternating between the peaceful snores he'd become accustomed to and deep, sobbing wails. Arik's eyes welled with tears, fighting to not think too much about the fallen and failing even at that. Thinking back on all that had happened, blaming himself for most of it, rational or not.

An hour, then two, passed. Other than a bird pecking at the window, nothing changed. Minsc was still snoring. Arik, still lying almost awake, reminiscing all alone, all the good and the bad that he'd gone through with Khalid and Dynaheir.

And, what with the snoring and the bird and his own detachment from reality, how strange it was that what broke his reverie was the soft, almost non-sound of a piece of parchment on wood, quickly followed by the sad, almost pathetic attempt at stealth by someone trying to move both quickly and quietly, achieving neither.

Arik rolled off the bed, landing on his fingers and toes, and crept to the door, already knowing the author and the message. Just her style, really: melodrama and cliché.

_Friends,_

_I am sorry to do this, but I must. Irenicus wants me and me alone, and I cannot endanger any more friends in my hunt for him. And I will hunt him down._

_Minsc, you're the mightiest warrior I've ever known, and certainly one of the bravest. I don't know Rashemani customs, and maybe revenge is required of you here, but don't, please. Leave him to me, I don't need a protector anymore. Find a good life, Minsc. Join the guard, become a mercenary, tend bar somewhere, I don't know. But live, for yourself as well as Dynaheir._

_Jahiera, you've been like the mother I never had, but I don't need a mother anymore. Whatever debt you owed Gorion, you've more than fulfilled it, and you certainly don't owe me anything. Grieve for Khalid, find some peace. Your heart sings for it, I know. Please. I will avenge Khalid._

_Arik, I know how you care for Imoen. I swear, I give you my word, I will save her. But I couldn't stand losing you too. I have no doubt you'll thrive here, please do so. After all, you were always talking about how much you wanted to see the City of Coin._

_Please, leave Irenicus to me. My father's curse has claimed too many as it is. No more._

_Please don't look for me. You won't find me._

_Kyri._

Arik read it twice, pausing over the closing. _Damn fool._

_She reshapes the 'verse upon her whim_, Arik thought, gathering his equipment and depositing half of what gold he had on the table. _She's never lost a battle, and there have been a few that we should not have won. She couldn't possibly be _this_ stupid._

He leaves the slumbering giant, his friend, behind in an empty room, save for the gold and a simple addition to the letter, scrawled in barely legible script:

_I'll find her. I'll keep her safe. Live a good life._


	4. 4: Recruitement

There was only one place Arik knew to look for Kyri. It was also the most obvious, easiest to find, and least original. M'lady Kyri of Candlekeep in a nutshell.

The Copper Coronet was the true symbol of Athkatla, the City of Coin. Just as how on the busy market streets you could find nearly anything for sale, in the Copper Coronet you could hire anyone to do just about any job. The only thing limiting any prospective partnership was the moral integrity of those involved, and, in the City of Coin, said morals are quite hard to find. Rumor was that the Coronet even traded in slaves, and if Arik, who had only just arrived, knew, then the local guard must be receiving some very large donations indeed.

As Arik stepped into the tavern, the night seemed to be already in full swing. He paused at the door and looked about the room, finding exactly what he expected. A handful of seasoned warriors, looking for their next job; countless young punks, more muscles than brains, trying to look like they were the big, strong men in the joint, just the sort to start a fight at the drop of a hat.

Arik also noticed two 'co-workers', one making a rather good pull from one of the brainless sword-arms, the other also with a good pull, but choosing perhaps the wrong target, one of the experienced folk.

And, finally, he noticed a slight, Elven sorceress doing her best to not be seen. Sadly, she was not good at this at all. Somehow, with a cloak worn with the hood covering her ears, sitting with her back to the corner of the room, shoulders hunched, she was more conspicuous than she would be sitting in the middle of the room half naked. The cloak, oh the cloak, black as midnight and obvious as the sun. It was like she's seen the dance but didn't know all of the moves. It was funny, almost.

Arik gave a grim smile. He really wasn't expecting it to be this easy. Kyri really should've known better than to hide in the Coronet. So, while her attention was diverted to the evening's melee, started off with a well-executed cross to a pickpocket's jaw, Arik moved to her table, staying out of sight as best he could.

He slipped behind her and whispered into her ear, or where her ear would be under the cloak, "You don't know how I feel for Im."

Kyri actually jumped a little at this, stammering out "Arik, wha-" before he cut her off.

"No. You can't do this alone," he said, sitting down beside her. "I understand how you feel, I really do. I even agree with you about Jahiera and Minsc, they've lost too much as it is. But I will not let you go off and get yourself killed. No chance. You're stuck with me, like it or not."

Kyri glared at him, and Arik held it. This time he was right, and they both knew it.

"... thanks." All she said, all she needed to.

"What I'm here for, Ky." Simple statements, what Arik did best at times.

_Okay,_ Kyri thought, _back to business. _"We're going to need an army to beat Irenicus."

"Nah, not an army. An army would just get in the way."

"We need more than two, ya dummy." Kyri said, dropping into the family slang.

Arik chuckled, his first in a while. "So, mercenaries?"

"Paid with what?"

"Well..." Arik said, gesturing to his sister.

"Not funny brother. I was thinking of the noble sort. The honorable warriors."

"Think you can make an exception for me?"

Kyri gives a little laugh, nothing much. A pity laugh for a pitiful joke. Still, Arik's spirits were lifted all the same. The voice in his head, telling him everything that was wrong, was suddenly much more silent. If his sister, the bossy, straight faced Elven one, could still laugh after everything...

Well, maybe things could work out. Things wouldn't get that much better, not really. The brawl had finally settled down, and Arik and Kryi were still tired, worn from the fighting and the running and everything else.

But for the first time all day, Arik had a little bit of hope. Finally, Arik could look to the future with something other than four corpses in his vision. He knew, nothing really had changed. Good friends were still dead, his body still ached from weeks of torture, and Imoen was still a prisoner. But, then again, things change all the time, don't they...

"So, a cleric, a brawler and a shield-hand?" Kryi said, using the tactical shorthand she'd read about when learning small party combat tactics.

"At least. An archer would be handy."

"Don't see many of them around here."

"They're around, somewhere. You got a plan? Or something?"

"What, you don't know?" At Arik's unamused glare, she went on. "Nothing solid, but I was approached on my way here. Someone by the name of Gaelen Bayle is very interested in helping me out, and knows people who can help me find Imoen. And probably Irenicus."

"How generous of him. Very noble. So, how much will it cost us?"

"Twenty thousand."

Beat. "Be serious."

Kyri sighed. "I am. This contact, Gaelen, is smart, knows things that he shouldn't. I don't think he was lying, and he honestly says I can trust him, something about how he'd be nothing without his word."

"Ah, honor among thieves. But still, twenty thousand? I'll assume we're talking about gold here, and in standard coins."

"It's why I'm here. It's the only option I, we, have. Find some hired hands to work for a share of the gold,"

"Increasing the amount we need to gather." Arik muttered.

"Better that than dead. Besides, we might do better giving them an extra share above the initial twenty thousand. Or we could look for a knight in shining armor."

"That would be me!" said a booming voice.

The voice belonged to someone who clearly did not belong in such a place. His armor, his eyes, even his teeth seemed to gleam. The look of nobility was all about him, from his stance to, well, his gleam. The only things that broke up the look were a small scar on his left cheek and a rather subdued amulet around his neck of an eye set upon a gauntlet.

"Oh, damn it all, a Helmite..."

"I apologize for dropping eaves on your private conversation, as much of a conversation can be private in this hovel-"

"I dunno, I kinda like it here." Arik interrupted, as a table broke from the force of an unlucky thief's body being slammed onto it. "It's got a nice ambiance."

"I was addressing the lady, cur." Turning back to Kyri, and ignoring Arik's muttering about Kyri's supposed lady-ship, the Helmite introduced himself. "My name is Anomen Delryn, and I am indeed a cleric of Helm, however I do also possess great skill with a sword and shield. Tell me, art thou a force of righteousness and order in this wicked world, and doth thou quest follow suit?"

"Why, indeed it does, good sir knight!" Arik replied in a voice so genuine and pure. "Our quest involves the rescue of a damsel in distress, her countenance so fair, a good and noble soul if there ever was one, and the foe we face is an evil wizard beyond redemption, the source of many evil deeds in this cursed world!"

"Arik, I think that's enough," said Kyri, doing her best not to laugh at the scowl on Anomen's face. "To be honest, Anomen, it's mostly what Arik said. Well, maybe not Immy being noble, and really our enemy is the Cowled Wizards, and-"

Arik stood, cutting her off. "Ky, go ahead and catch him up on our life story. I'm heading out to gather some supplies, sell some of these gemstones, the usual."

"Pay for them. I don't want to have to bail you out again."

Arik laughed. "That only happened once!"

Kyri grinned back at him. "Good. Keep it that way. And keep your ears open."

Arik just threw back a half-hearted "Always do," over his shoulder and strolled out of the din of the tavern, wanting to be at least a few block away before his new special friend learned about his chosen profession.

--------------------

Arik's leisurely stroll through the streets of Athkatla had taken him through a few of the more colorful parts of the city, but once he crossed the river, everything changed, like night and day. Instead of beggars and shady merchants looking hopefully at him, there were serious men in heavy, shiny armor gave him suspicious looks.

To be fair, the dark grey cloak and worn leather armor weren't helping him much. Neither was the crossbow. Or the sword. While below the river, it was clear that he was not the only one who'd known combat first hand, but up here it looked like it was all rich nobles and guards who's armor and weapons were more for show than any real use. Arik couldn't see a single dent on them.

It's a wonder he wasn't visibly salivating.

But things had gone well enough. Found some good deals on the gems he'd looted, replaced his worn short sword and crossbow with a very well made sword with a hilt almost like the one he had back in the Gate and a crossbow that could hit a target a hundred feet away. He even found a strange little gnome selling what he called Flashers, crossbow bolts that exploded with a bright flash, which couldn't possibly be legal.

It was a nice day, in the clean part of the city, and he'd even managed to cut a few purse-strings from under the watchful eye of the guards. Perfect time to relax and take in the-

"Burn her! Burn the Drow!"

_Right on time. No rest for the wicked or the weary._ Arik moved quickly to the source of the voice and found a strangely cliché sight unfolding before him: A scantily clad woman, tied to a stake and surrounded by kindling and no small number of angry people. Only the woman was Drow, a race of elves known for their cruelty and evil and their hatred of all that is good and pure.

Except that Arik knew this one. Viconia DeVir. And while her state of clothing had him slightly distracted, he knew he had to do something. "Tell me, good sirs, what is going on here?"

One of the armed men turned, displaying no insignia or holy symbol. "Merely dispatching this spawn of evil. Do not worry, we have her securely bound and her tainted existence will end quite soon!" he replied, prompting a chorus of cheers from the assembled mass.

"You... Arik? Arik! Please, help me! Talk some sense into these pathetic _rivven_!" Viconia cried out.

"What? You know this fiend?"

Arik sighed. "Yes, I do think I recognize her," he said, stepping forward towards the stake.

The leader moved his hand to his sword. "Do not interfere! She-"

"Interfere? Why?" Arik scoffed, turning to the speaker, a surprised but amused look on his face. "Me and mine stuck our neck out for her many moons ago, and she fled the second it was in her best interest!"

Viconia stared at Arik, giving him a look that, by all rights, should have left a smoking hole. "What? How dare you! _Jaluk_, you will-"

"Something tells me you won't have much luck taking revenge on me. Just a hunch." This drew some mocking laughs from the crowd. Good, evil, it doesn't matter: Everyone loves a show. Arik stepped closer to her, kindling snapping under his boots. "For a month we fought together, but the, what's the word V, isn't '_golhyrr_' how you people say 'coward'? Well, anyway, she scampers off once she finds out we're going after a true villain."

He walks around her, smiling at her puzzled face. He pauses behind her, and grabs at his sword. "Foolish me, shouldn't have weapons around her. Might ruin the fun, no, if she tries to escape?" With a flourish, Arik draws the sword fast, before anyone can object, and tosses it underhand towards the middle of the mob, the audience fleeing the wayward blade. It clattered loudly to the ground, Arik wincing as the newly bought blade suffers its first ding.

"Anyway, I doubt she ever really cared about the group, cared about anyone but herself at least. Probably doesn't even remember what a 'Reverse Rabbit' is anymore." Viconia still scowls at Arik, who is now staring her right in the face, except the scowl doesn't seem as genuine as it used to be. "Maybe, if you had been a little bit nicer, little '_ssussun_', that's still 'bitch', right? Maybe, if you were a little nicer, I'd be helping you out instead of leaving you in their quite capable hands. Maybe."

At that, Arik steps off of the kindling and walks over to retrieve his blade. "Well, I must be going. Burning flesh just makes me gag, you know. So sorry that I can't stay around." And, with that parting shot, Arik just turned his back on the mob and the helpless maiden and walked off along the street, turning into a nearby alley.

The leader turned back to the stake, a triumphant grin on his face. "Well, well, it seems that your vile deeds have caught up to you, Drow! Prepare to face the cleansing flame!"

Viconia sneered at him. "If you think I will beg for my life, you will get no such pleasure from me, you pathetic _wael_! Shar, hear my cry! Grant your loyal servant your blessing! Free me from these fools!"

And, at that, a miracle happened. A bright flash, intensely bright and deafeningly loud, blinding everyone around the stake. As the leader of the mob stumbled about, rubbing his eyes to get the spots in his vision to fade, he could have though_ 'Did a god just strike us down?'_ Or '_Why would a god of darkness use a bright flash of light?'_, had he known some details about Shar. Or, maybe, '_No more burning clerics alive!'_

But when his eyes finally cleared, he didn't hold his thoughts in. "Where the hell did that bitch go?"

--------------------

Five minutes and a half-mile later, Arik and Viconia pulled to a stop in the shadow of a handful of crates, in one of many back alleys just on the good side of the river, Arik's cloak wrapped around her luscious figure.

"So," Arik said between breaths, "how have things been?" At Viconia's annoyed look, he went on. "Good idea, yelling out a prayer to Shar. Glad you got the message."

"Had you spelled it out any more, they would have found a brain and slaughtered you on the spot."

"Hey, I thought I was pretty subtle! '_Golhyrr'_ means trick, '_ssussun_' means a bright light, and a Reverse Rabbit-"

"-is when you cause a distraction and then go hide. I do remember the codes, _rivvil_."

"Putting the rabbit back in the hat, so to speak." Arik grinned. "Sorry, I've been waiting to say that for a while. Besides, its not like any of them would've known any Drow."

"Fool." Viconia paused, mulling something over in her mind. "They could have seen you slice the rope. And _what_ created that light?"

"Why do you think I threw my sword? Great distraction, a wayward blade. By the by, I just bought this sword, and it's already got a notch in the blade! Oh, and the light was courtesy of a special crossbow bolt I bought today. Completely illegal, I have no doubt." Arik sighed. "You could at least thank me."

She scoffed at that. "I assume you need my assistance?"

"What makes you say that?"

"When don't you?" she said, smirking.

"Funny," said Arik, not laughing. "If we can make it back to the Coronet, I think I can convince Kyri to help you out again. Of course, that'd be the easy part."

"And the hard?"

"Convincing a holier-than-thou Helmite not to kill you on sight."


	5. 5: Lines of Trust

Woo, two chapters writ in less than a week! Gotta be a record, for me at least!

Keep the reviews coming, people! I'm getting much better at writing...

--------------------

By some miracle, Arik and Viconia had managed to sneak back to the Copper Coronet without being seen. The setting sun had assisted them somewhat, especially given everyone's intense desire to stay off the streets at night. Even the Guard seemed to find the warmth of their beds particularly inviting, regardless of how balmy the city was this night.

Arik, with Viconia still in tow and well hidden under the loaned cloak, was about to knock on the door of the room Kyri had rented when a particularly vexed voice emerged. "That man and his kind have no respect for society!"

"That would be the Helmite?" Viconia inquired.

Arik sighed. "Well, this sounds encouraging."

"Must you have two clerics?"

"I think he's more of a fighter."

Whatever had been said in response to Anomen's declaration was too soft to be heard through the door, but Anomen had no trouble making himself heard. "One wretched thief is enough, m'lady, but two? Am I really expected to defend, to be willing to give my life for those who would not think of doing the same for me?"

"Another thief, Arik? Does she not have faith in you?" Although the hood shrouded her face in shadows, Arik just knew Viconia had a taunting smile on her face. Forgetting any sense of propriety, Arik just opened the door and went on in.

"-being a bit harsh?" Kyri looked to the door. "Oh, Arik, just lovely timing. Couldn't choose a better time. Who-"

"Later. What's this about another rogue?"

Kyri winced. "Look, we're short-handed. He's a Kara-Turan bounty hunter. Tracker, archer, says he's great with devices and, well, you're not." She smiled apologetically at Arik after that last part. "He's not totally honest, but isn't exaggerating much about his abilities."

"How are we going to pay him?"

"Full share above the first twenty thousand, and that part excludes the two of us."

"How generous of him." One day, Arik was going to try to go a full day without using sarcasm. It would not be a fun day at all.

Anomen snorted. "And all the coin from the bounty on Irenicus' head. Ten thousand gold pieces, hardly a fair deal."

"Ah, that makes more sense. Kyri, could you have Anomen give us three some privacy?" Arik asked, gesturing to the still-cloaked Viconia.

Anomen's eyes narrowed and let out a low growl. "I am standing right here, cur. Ask me yourself!" He informed Arik, as well as the residents of the rooms on either side.

Arik grinned at the much larger figure. "Would you leave if I asked?"

"No."

"Hence why I asked Kyri. Do try to keep up."

Anomen took a step forward, only to be intercepted by the elf not under the cloak. "Look, Anomen, Arik always has a good reason for asking for privacy," Kyri said, with a soft, pleading voice. "Just trust him, I know I can."

"Very well, milady. For you, I will trust him." Anomen nearly stomped out of the room, glaring at Arik, hardly noticing that there was someone who was trying very much to remain hidden right behind the thief.

After Arik closed the door, Kyri's voice, where it had once been reminiscent of velvet and silk, now reminded the brother of steel and stone. "Okay, you had better have a good rea-"

Viconia, now finally in a safe place, lowered the hood. "Hello again, Kyri."

"Oh, hell."

"Yep," Arik replied.

Kyri raised a hand to her temple. "Anyone dead?"

"No."

"Arik..."

Arik raised his hand, as though taking an oath. "Honest truth. Just had to do some play-acting, a Reverse Rabbit and a lot of running. Lynch mobs, easy to fool."

Kyri exhaled in relief. "Good. I do hate having the guard come after us." She turned her attention to the Drow. "I thought you said that you couldn't risk entering a large city, that you'd be spotted far too easily?"

"I reconsidered, especially since I left the company of those who seek attention.

Kyri's eyes narrowed. "How'd that work out?"

Viconia's eyes did the same. "Poorly."

Kyri smirked. "And now you need my protection."

Viconia countered with a smile of her own. "Just as you need my help."

At this point, Arik was debating between the virtues of remaining by his sister's side and the virtues of not getting caught in the crossfire. Just to be safe, he started to edge towards the door.

"Need you?" Kyri barked out a laugh. "I already have a healer. I'm sure he's just as good as you are, and much friendlier too. No, if I'm going to help you, I'll need you to ask for it."

Viconia gave a haughty laugh of her own. "You want me to beg, is that it?"

Arik could only see this ending badly and, against his own better judgment, decided to intervene. "Ky, come on, you-"

Kyri shook her head. "No, Arik. She accepts that I'm in charge, or I won't lift a finger."

"But isn't-"

"No."

"She's just-"

"No."

"Look, it's the-"

"No."

"Can't I finish-"

"Not a chance," Kyri said, with a brief smirk.

"Amusing though this is," Viconia interjected, "and it truly is, I will not beg you for help. I will follow your orders. I will indeed ask for your help," she said, answering the question before it had left Kyri's mouth, "but I am a Drow, and I will _never_ grovel at the feet of a surfacer, no matter who's daughter they are." Where Anomen would have yelled, Viconia's voice just got harder and harder until it was clear there would be no disagreeing, on pain of pain.

Kyri held the gaze a few seconds longer than necessary, not at all pleased about the threat that Viconia threw in. Still, the glare soon broke into a very cheerful smile. "That'll do. And I think I know just how to keep your, well, Drow-ness hidden without using an obvious cloak."

"So, I would not look like this?" Viconia said, clearly disappointed about the prospect of not being attacked on sight and distrusted by everyone.

"... not exactly. It's more complicated than that. Less illusion, more messing with people's minds."

"Uh, Kyri..." said Arik, resuming his edging towards the door. Kyri was starting to sound like one of those mad wizards, who'd try nearly anything magical once and were responsible for more than a few massive craters.

"Relax, it's a proven spell. Just needs a minor modification and something to enchant it onto and it'll be nice and stable and working." Kyri said, mumbling a bit afterwards.

Viconia's eyes narrowed. "Did you just say 'probably'?"

"Trust me," Kyri said, with a smile. "Arik, could you go outside and tell Anomen and Yoshimo about this?"

"Who and why?"

"Yoshimo's the bounty hunter. And I won't lie to anyone who's trusting me with their lives."

"No lies at all?" Viconia asked, with a certain implication in her tone.

Kyri froze. Before the bad memories could resurface, though, she answered. "Maybe a little discretion about that other thing, Arik. That goes double for you, Viconia."

"You have my word," said the Drow. With a smile.

Arik left the two elves to catch up, hammer out details about the chain of command (such as if it physically exists and is used as a method of punishment), and work the magic out. Emerging from the room, he found Anomen still outside, thankfully far enough away to not be able to overhear what was going on inside.

_Time to mend some bridges. Never want to piss off a healer too much. _"Anomen, mind chatting?" With Anomen's grunt of indifference, Arik plunged on. "Look, sorry for the mocking. Let's just say that those of us that 'have no respect for society' can be a bit touchy at times."

Anomen blinked. "I did not mean to-"

"Don't worry about it. I may not like the law all that much, but I'm hardly the typical rogue. I'm a great believer in justice, for example."

He snorted. "Ah, the noble thief. Tell me, how much of your ill-gotten coin goes to poor?"

"Honest truth? It mainly goes to shopkeepers, but only the wealthy have reason to fear my lock picks." At the Helmite's glare, Arik let out a little laugh. "Relax, I'm not that good with devices. You know, locks and traps? Ky was right to hire someone who can actually handle traps without setting them off."

For the moment, Anomen's curiosity overruled his moral outrage. "Are the traps really that difficult? Why not set them off from a distance?"

"Some, you can. Thing is," Arik started counting off on his fingers, "some traps reset, some only trigger when a living thing passes through them, some only when a being from the Material Plane triggers it, so no summoning, and some don't bother with the magical triggers and just throw fireballs around." Arik gave a mock shudder. "Those last ones are the nastiest. And, of course, there's all the traps that guard treasure chests. Better just to bring on an expert. Anyway, I'm more of the sneaky type of rogue. Pretty good fighter, too, if I say so myself."

"I'm sure no one will correct you," Anomen said, with a slight smile on his face.

"I'm still alive, that's got to count for something. And look at you with the sense of humor! Who knew?" Arik said, feigned shock on his face.

"Me," Anomen answered, his face going as serious as stone. At least, until the poker face broke and a few chuckles escaped. "So, who was the person with the cloak?"

Arik winced. "Ah, yeah, Ky wanted me to tell you about her. She's an old party member, traveled with us up in the Sword Coast, although she wouldn't enter Baldur's Gate. She's can be a sorta good person, if the mood strikes her, which, I have to admit, rarely happens. Okay, almost never. Still, she's an excellent cleric, more of a healer, though, so you can focus on the hitting and not the healing. Before you ask, the reason why she won't enter the gate is because she gets hunted by ignorant folk, and we've had to bail her out before. Hell, I, just today, saved her from a lynch mob. Well, if a lynch mob burns people."

Anomen nodded, and said "So, what's the problem with her? I imagine you don't describe everyone like this."

Arik hesitated. "Look, don't let her, well, bitchy personality turn you off, me and Kyri trust her with our lives."

"Just tell me the bad news," the Helmite said with a sigh.

Arik took a deep breath, took a step backward and made sure he was between Anomen and Kyri's room. "Her name is Viconia DeVir, and she's a Drow priestess of Shar."

To be fair, Anomen's response was much more restrained than Arik was expecting. He had thought that the Helmite would draw his sword, impale Arik, break down the door and try to kill Viconia himself.

Instead, after hesitating for a few moments and drawing his sword, he just tried to push Arik aside. This turned out to be a mistake, however, as Arik grabbed the offending limb and swept Anomen's feet from under him.

The squire landed awkwardly, with his weapon falling from his grasp and landing out of his reach, and his left arm bent behind him by the rogue landing on his back. "Unhand me!"

Arik sighed, shifting position to put more force onto his hold. "You were going to attack Viconia, weren't you?"

"You left a Drow alone in a room with your sister! Are you not concerned about her safety?" said a struggling Anomen, doing his best to throw Arik off but finding his heavy armor unsuited to the task.

"Stay still! Look, I trust Viconia, and so does Kyri! We need her help, too! So no killing the healer! She's not going-"

Interrupting Arik's persuasive speech about loyalty, honor and trust amongst the party was the sound of fighting coming from inside the room. Anomen's right elbow finally found Arik's face, and with the rogue reeling in pain, Anomen was able to climb to his feet, pick up his sword, and burst into the room.

Whereupon he found a rather different scene than he was expecting. Rather than Kyri on the ground and Viconia standing over her with a bloody dagger in hand, Viconia was the one prone and injured, blood seeping from her nose and a winded look on her face, as though she were struck in the solar plexus. The sorceress, on the other hand, was furious, and her hands glowed with the magic of a spell about to go off.

"Let me say this clearly, Viconia," Kyri said with venom in her voice. "If you say one more word, _any_ word at all, about Khalid or Dynaheir, there won't be enough of you left of you to fill an urn! You will respect the dead, or you will join them!_ Is that clear?_"

Viconia hesitated a bit, catching her breath before she could respond. "Perfectly, _yah'dalhar_," she said, managing a minor snarl.

Anomen quickly sheathed his sword and bowed his head. "Milady, I apologize for rushing in, but-"

"Arik told you about Viconia?"

Arik staggered in, pinching his nose shut and inexplicably clutching at his chest. "I'm fine, by the way, in case anyone was wondering."

Anomen ignored him, and answered Kyri's query. "Yes, and I think it folly to trust her, especially alone with you."

Kyri smiled and, ignoring both Arik's snickering and Viconia's disgusted snort, walked up to him and raised his chin so their eyes could meet. "Don't worry, I can handle myself. If she tries anything, I'll be fine." Her smile widened, and Anomen's blush deepened. "I may have to save you, if she still fights like she used to."

Viconia stood and wiped the blood from under her nose. "I assure you, oh fearless leader, I still possess all of my previous experience. Far more than this whelp, the foolish servant of-"

"Another rule, Drow." Anomen interrupted. "Speak ill of Helm around me or harm one of our allies in any way and, while there will be enough of you for an urn, your body will be in no fewer than four pieces."

"Oh? You believe that you stand a chance against myself and Shar?"

Anomen smirked. "You and Shar didn't seem to have much luck against a few commoners. I think I can manage. Do not worry, though," Anomen said with a generous smile. "So long as you do nothing evil, you will be free from Helm's wrath. Lady Kyri seems to have reason to believe some good can come of your assistance, so I will tolerate your presence, for now."

"If you think-"

Kyri cut in before Viconia could get to the threat of grievous bodily harm. "Okay, great, now that we're all friendly, why don't you guys leave me to the magicing. And, before you ask, I need Viconia to help with the spell."

"Okay," Arik said, pulling Anomen out of the room. "I'll find Yoshimo and tell him all about this. Good luck with the spell, I'll be looking for the smoking hole."

--------------------

"So, my friend, how attractive is she?"

It was almost refreshing, really, Yoshimo's reaction to the news of Viconia. No death threats, no elbows to the face, nothing.

And thinking of that, Arik double-checked his nose. Anomen had used one of his minor healing spells to patch it up and covered the first round as an apology, but he could swear that it still hurt. Not as bad as some other things, to be sure, but pain is pain. And speaking of that... "You aren't all that familiar with Drow, are you?"

Yoshimo grinned. "Only that the Wood Elves of Suldanessellar have a hundred gold bounty per head on them." At Arik and Anomen's suspicious glares, he added "Do not worry, the price is not worth it."

Anomen glowered. "That's not reassuring at all. Perhaps we should rethink our arrangement."

"Ah, do not worry, good squire! I am a very honorable person. I do not betray those who fight beside me. After all, if I did so, I could hardly be surprised if they did so as well!"

"I'm sure," Arik said, filing that under 'deeply suspicious'. "But, you have no problem with fighting alongside a race known far and wide for their evil?"

He shrugged. "I have made deals with evil men before. As long as they follow through on their end of the bargain, I have no quarrel with them."

"A very short-sighted policy, one that will lead you to your doom in the end," said Anomen, clearly thrilled at the bounty hunter's moral integrity.

"It serves me well," Yoshimo said, wincing a bit on the end of the sentence. "That is to say, most of the time. Heh, I have had a few poor experiences in the past. But who has not?"

"Well, we're good folk here," said Arik, making a mental note to watch his back. "No need to worry about betrayal, we tend to do many a horrible thing to those who put the self above the group."

"I will keep that in mind," Yoshimo said, chuckling a bit at the dire threat.

During the various talks and death threats, the main floor of the Copper Coronet had simmered down a great deal from earlier. A few patrons still remained, many on the verge of falling into a drunken slumber or receiving a gentle hand towards the exit. Still a few of them were awake enough to whistle out a few catcalls as Kyri descended the stairs to the bar. She shook her head at this, although Arik did notice a small smile on her face, before their eyes met and she motioned to meet outside. He bid a quick good night to his two new friends and ducked outside to meet with his oldest one.

Kyri did not bother hiding, just sitting down on a crate next to the door. Whether it was the presence of a way to save Imoen, meeting new friends or just the warm night air, it had done wonders for her. "So, looks like we have a bit of a team now."

Arik put his back on the wall, scanning the empty street more out of habit than anything else. "Looks like. Not too sure about Yoshimo, seems like he's hiding something."

"So are we. Can't blame him for not revealing everything to people he just met. Besides, he's not the one I'm worried about." Kyri tried to smother a laugh, failing miserably. "You sure you were thinking with your head when you brought her here?"

Arik sighed. "Yes. Well, maybe not just with my head," he conceded, drawing another bark of a laugh from the young sorceress, "but my head was indeed involved. What would you have done? We need free help, and, hey, here's an old friend who could use some herself! And she'll work for free!"

"Have you forgotten how many fights we've gotten into because of her? How hard it will be to gain the trust of people because of her? The amulet I'm making won't work on everyone, and I don't want to have to choose between her and Imoen. It won't be a hard one."

Arik sighed. "I know, Ky. But right now we need coin in a hurry. Again, she'll work for free. Besides, I'm not the only one bringing on some eye candy."

"Oh, come on. Anomen's an experienced fighter and he's a second cleric! Just because he's handsome, brave, noble and built like..." she trailed off, and let out a wistful sigh. "I'm really not helping my case, am I?"

He gave her a chuckle. "Not at all. How'd you get him whipped so quickly?"

"All I did was smile at him and convince him of the righteousness of our cause. That and telling him about all of our other good deeds." She smirked as Arik rubbed his nose again. "You're just angry that he beat you up."

"He hit me in the nose when I wasn't looking! Not a fair fight!"

She grinned that evil little grin of hers. "Oh, so now you fight fair? When'd that happen?"

"Look, back to business for a moment, you find any jobs in there?"

"No," she said, looking serious again. "I don't think we should take on anything too heavy. A shakedown mission, so to speak. Nothing like that in there. Well, nothing that doesn't involve beating up some defenseless old man." Kyri sighed. The Coronet and its rather loose moral code were beginning to wear on her. If one more idiot came up to her looking for someone to collect from a debtor...

"Well, maybe not entirely true. People seem to go missing in this area, and for a long time now. I've heard about murders up by the bridge, and widespread thief killings, but those rumors don't seem to go as far back. Add onto that the money changing hands between a guard and a shady type not far from here and a drunk mumbling about gladiator fights going on in the Coronet, I'm thinking there might be a slaver operation being run inside."

"Slavers." The sorceress shuddered at the thought. "Good catch, let's hope there's something behind that. But now," she yawned, "it's time for sleep. I'm gonna enjoy sleeping during the night for once."

"G'night, Ky. Let's hope tomorrow is a little less exciting."

She gave a bitter laugh before going inside. "No bet."


	6. 6: The Copper Coronet

"_W-why?" Arik squeaked out._

"_Why?" The figure standing over Arik paused in his craft and gave a hollow laugh. "Do you truly care? Do you wish for some sort of understanding, or is it that you think you can talk me out of this?" he said, gesturing with the scalpel._

_The rogue lay on a cold table, made of stone, fitted with four manacles well secured to the stone and magically locked. Even at full strength, Arik knew he could not escape, and he was nowhere near full strength._

_The cuts were shallow, but numerous. By some miracle, by luck or design, very little of his blood had escaped thus far, only enough to fill a mug once. But whatever magics kept the blood from pouring out of him did nothing to alleviate the pain he felt, the wind rushing by the open wounds, not to mention the initial feeling of a blade being drawn across his unprotected skin._

"_Worth-" Arik coughed, "a shot."_

_Another empty laugh. "Long ago, there was a part of me that would feel sorry for all that I've done. A small part," he added almost as an afterthought. "Take comfort that what I've done to you and friends has not been out of malice. In fact, I'm beginning to think that what I'm doing to you now is a mistake."_

_Arik gritted his teeth, trying to remain calm as he could be, given everything. "Then... stop." It hurt to talk, and the short sentences just weren't working._

"_No. Your elven sister loves her magic. Your human one loves her innocence. And you love the strength of your body."_

_Irenicus, the figure, the torturer, bent over Arik again, the knife ready to cut again, and a dark smile on his face. "I have lost all that I ever loved. Everything. Consider yourself fortunate to only lose what you love most."_

_He drew the scalpel along Arik's skin, resuming his work. It was majesty in its own right, what Irenicus was doing to him. More flair than force, more art than malice, it was as if the villain were painting a masterpiece, each slice agonized over, mistakes few but corrected, healing the damaged skin whenever he cut too long or curved too quick. If a viewer were to observe this, they might be held aghast, but could not help but be mesmerized, be held in anticipation of what the final result might be._

_But all this was lost on the medium, the rogue bolted to the table, recoiling in pain with each stroke of the knife, for he was lost not in the work, but in the greatest pain he had ever known._

_And he did not scream, for Irenicus had taken that from him as well._

----------

Arik woke and the dream, the memory faded.

The pain did not.

His skin was ablaze with pain, all across his chest. It cut into him, as surely as the scalpel had days ago, carving across his body, tracing along the lines on his skin. Wherever there was a scar, Arik felt the weapon cut into his flesh again. Every slice from a bandit's blade. Every bolt from a well-aimed crossbow. Even that one time he had sliced his thumb badly when cutting vegetables. All returning at once, a few moments of pure agony.

When the intense agony finally subsided, Arik released the covers, now slightly torn, and blinked his eyes open, wiping away the tears. For the last few days it had been the same, waking up in unbearable agony, feeling every wound he'd ever taken all at once.

"Hate... magic... so much..." he said, gasping for breath.

Arik couldn't even scream to let some of it out. Whatever magics were causing the torment also made it so that Arik had to keep his pain to himself. And, as agonizing as the opening volley was, the worst part was what followed.

The pain, as Arik had come to call it, came and went, ebbed and rose. At some random moment it would flare up and seize at his chest, causing both intense pain and a possibly unwelcome distraction. It also seemed to tie into his emotions. When he was happy, when he joked, or was relaxing and at peace, it faded away, almost into nothingness, more of a dull ache than anything. But when he fought or when his temper ran hot, it would flare up and could easily distract him at a crucial moment.

Such as by getting elbowed in the nose by a driven Helmite.

"You know, I really should get this looked at," he muttered to himself. He had the room to himself, by virtue of an uneven number of party members and being good at cheating at rock-paper-scissors, so he removed his shirt to confirm what he already knew.

To best describe Arik's chest would to consider it a piece of paper, and the scars on it the ink lines of a bored fellow's doodling. The scars weaved about, fading as they reached his waist, sides and shoulders, crossing over each other and so densely packed that it seemed a wonder that anyone could survive whatever caused such an injury, and Arik was hard pressed to find a place on his chest where he could fit three fingertips, side by side.

That's the thing about torturers: They're very, very good at keeping their victims alive.

A loud knocking on the door broke his thoughts. "Arik," came the deep voice of the Helmite, "your sister would be most appreciative if you would join us for breakfast soon, as dawn has long since passed and we have a great deal to do today." Arik thought he heard a snicker at the end of Anomen's speech.

"Those her words?"

"I did paraphrase slightly."

Arik grinned, slipping on his shirt and leather armor. "Tell her to leave me some bacon. I'll be out in a minute." He paused. "I'd hurry, if I were you."

----------

Arik, looking ready for a fight, descended the stairs into a rather empty Coronet, and immediately spotted Kyri's table.

Damn full-body cloaks. Both Viconia and Kyri wore them, hoods fully up, and Anomen was with them, no hooded cloak but far too clean to fit in this locale.

Arik made his way over to the party, spotting an unclaimed plate with food, including two strips of what could generously be called bacon. When he arrived, Kyri was talking. "-a dream, a weird one. Don't worry, I'm fine," she said, cutting off Anomen's concerned reply. "Oh, good," she said when Arik arrived, "what took you Arik?"

"Sleep. It's been a while since I had a soft place to lay on."

"Soft?" Viconia scoffed. "If a drow innkeeper dared to have beds as poor as these, he would be dead by the first morning."

"First off, Viconia, even these rooms are better than our previous accommodations," Kyri said, wincing a bit at the memories. "Second, we talked about this. No more drow anecdotes."

"Bit harsh, don't you think Ky? They're actually kinda interesting."

Anomen sighed. "Your taste in stories aside, there's another reason."

"Magic?" At Anomen's nod, Arik sighed. "Really getting tired of that being the reason."

"Shut up, Arik," said Kyri, launching into lecture mode. "The amulet Viconia and I made yesterday works by convincing everyone that looks at her that she's just a normal elf. The magic is enchantment based, not illusion, so it would take a powerful illusion removing spell like True Sight to get past it. And, because it's such a minor change to the subject's perception, it's almost impossible to resist. Really, all that changes is what people think her skin color is.

"Thing is, the enchantment isn't perfect. She needs to act like an non-drow elf," at this Viconia spat onto the ground, "or everyone will realize what she really is. Also, if you know she's drow, or if someone is looking specifically for a drow, or if someone is just really strong, magically speaking, they'll see right though it. Really, all it does is play on people's beliefs that drow never come to the surface, so why would there be one sitting at this table?"

Arik just stared at her for a few moments, choosing his words very, very carefully. "How the hell could that possibly work? I'm sorry, but that's just too damn complicated! People can be gullible, no doubt, but this is a bit of a stretch. And how'd you manage to do this under the Cowled Wizards' nose?"

"Oh, that's simple. They aren't allowed to monitor magical use inside buildings. There are some laws here." At this, Arik tried, and failed, to smother a laugh, drawing a glare from Anomen. "As for the first, just because it's complex doesn't mean it's impossible. It's magic!" she said, smiling wide. "You can do anything with it!"

"Right," said Arik, rolling his eyes. His sister loved magic.

_Really_ loved it.

It got creepy at times.

Arik shook his head and changed the subject quickly. "So, where's Yoshimo? Has he stabbed us in the back yet?"

"Arik, lay off him. He's trustworthy, an honorable man. He's not going to betray us to the first person to walk through the door. He even swore not to turn in Viconia for the bounty!"

"I mean no offense, milady," Anomen said, "but how can you trust someone you just met so implicitly? If the bounty on Viconia's head were any larger, I doubt he would even hesitate!"

"Why, thank you, oh so noble guardian of the just," said Viconia, giving the Helmite a sultry smile. "It is wonderful to know that you will protect my honor, how could I ever repay you?"

"Cut it out, Viconia," said Kyri, cutting off Anomen's response.

"What?" she said, trying out an innocent smile. "You told me to act like a normal elf, and you're the only elf I know. I thought that acting like a-"

"Shut up," interrupted Kyri as Anomen came in with "Silence, drow."

"Anyway," Kyri went on, ignoring Viconia's grin, "I'm a very good judge of character. It's a sort of magic, really, and it seems to take either tremendous magic or..." she hesitated, "a certain type of person to get around it." Yoshimo's a thief, not a mage, and he's definitely not the latter type."

Arik mentally added, _Such as being your half-brother, from your father's side, which is where that power comes from in the first place. Hate magic so much..._

"Yoshimo's a thief, not a mage, and I really doubt he'd have that kind of power, even if he knew about my ability," she finished. "Look, it's not like I do it all the time, and I can't tell what you're thinking. It's just that, if I concentrate, I know how honest you're being. We can trust him, for the most part. Just don't let him hold your coin purses.

"Anyway, Arik, Yoshimo is trying to get us permission to enter the backrooms here. Thugs with swords inside, we need to know something's going on inside before just barging in, swords swinging."

"What's the plan?" asked Arik.

"Naïve Paladin."

"And what, my new friend, is a 'Naïve Paladin'?" asked Yoshimo, appearing suddenly sitting down right next to Arik, causing Viconia and Kyri to visibly jump and Anomen to reach for his sword before remembering himself.

Arik picked up a piece of bacon from his plate and offered it to the bounty hunter. "Bacon, Yoshimo? 'fraid it's not all that good."

"I am fine," Yoshimo replied. "So, Kyri, before destroying me on the spot, what is a 'Naïve Paladin'?"

Kyri's right hand, raised and pointed straight at Yoshimo, lowered itself, and apologized before continuing. "'Naïve Paladin' is a bit of our code. We put it together on the fly back in the Sword Coast, and it's good at giving strategic commands quickly without giving them away. 'Kobold Retreat' means we fall back to a trapped area we set up in advance. 'Cast Guard' means you huddle around us spell casters and let us do the brunt of the work. And, well, when you yell out 'Bat Shit", it's calling for a fireball-type spell. If you're feeling heroic, yell out 'Bat Shit Me', and I'll toss a fireball on you."

Anomen stared at the sorceress. "'Bat Shit'..."

"Guano is the material component in the basic fireball spell." Kyri shrugged. "Imoen came up with it. It was funnier back then, trust me."

"Anyway, 'Naïve Paladin' basically means that we act oblivious to the subtext of everything going on inside. No matter what. We just walk around, go into every door, until we find something extremely incriminating. And that's where the Paladin part comes in. We take down everyone not smart enough to throw down their weapons and run away. Just don't look angry to them," she said, looking at Anomen, and then turning to Viconia, saying "and try not to enjoy yourself too much."

"Get all that?" asked Arik, a wry grin on his face.

"Play stupid until we have proof, then fight," Yoshimo summarized. "Simple. And, yes, we have the good man Lehtinan's permission to spend some coin in the less reputable parts of the inn."

"Good job," said Kyri, standing up. "Lets go to work."

----------

_I swear_, Arik thought, retreating from the bedroom,_ if I walk in on one more whore and her client, I'm going to hit someone._

It was not difficult to find illegal activity in the back rooms of the Copper Coronet. Whores, drugs, fences, the owner certainly aimed to please, but no slaves so far. Arik was almost ready to consider that maybe, just maybe, a rumor he'd heard on the street wasn't true after all.

He walked up to another door and was about to open it when he heard a particularly loud moan come from inside. Also somewhat unconvincing.

Letting go of the handle with a grimace, Arik spotted Yoshimo amble towards him with a wide grin. "Arik, your sister believes she has found something."

"Oh thank whatever gods are listening," Arik said under his breath.

"Hm?"

"Nothing. Lay on."

Yoshimo turned around, moving towards the rear of the surprisingly spacious building. "So, how is she your sister? Have you some elven blood that I haven't noticed yet?"

"Ha! No. We're all orphans, me and Im and Ky, and no blood lay between us. It's just that we've known each other for years and years and have always been as close as brother and sisters. Got a little awkward at times, really," he said, smiling at the memories of the old times.

"Aha, but if you are orphans, how do you know that you are not related?" the bounty hunter asked.

"Well, I knew my father before he passed on. He died nearly a decade ago, his heart just gave out." Arik blinked, wiping away the bitter tears, and continuing on unbidden. "He went to nearby farms and bought food for the monks of Candlekeep. One of the few who could enter the castle without a damn book."

"He was a good man?" Yoshimo asked, stopping at a corner.

Arik smiled. "Yeah. I mean, he couldn't fight well, a bit of a yeller, and he ate too much, but a good man all the same." He sniffed, rubbing his eyes again. "Kyri and Imoen were the only family I had after he died, and when Ky left Candlekeep and Imoen wanted to follow, what else could I do?"

"So, why do you still fight for her? Why go after this all powerful wizard?"

Arik's eyes narrowed. "That's between me and her. She owes me, I owe her, and I certainly won't abandon her now. So, unless you have further secrets to extract, I suggest we find the others.

The bounty hunter just kept grinning. "Of course, right this way."

The 'something' Yoshimo had referred to was a heavy iron door with a massive lock, slots for a wooden board to serve as a barricade, and the three other party members loitering completely inconspicuously next to it.

Yoshimo sighed. "Perhaps we should give them lessons on stealth. This is just becoming embarrassing."

"Good luck," Arik smirked. "Ky has a great mind for tactics and magic and not a whole lot else. You got Viconia the new gear?" Arik said, taking in the drow's new armor, which clung surprisingly well to her curves, with a very tantalizing bit of-

_No, Arik, stop staring at her, you know what she can do with that mace..._

"Of course. Paid for it all, too," he said, a hint of disappointment in his voice.

"You get used to it."

"Arik, Yoshimo, what took you so long? We don't have much time left!" Kyri said once she noticed them.

"The _yah'dalhar _has enchanted the guards into leaving their post and giving us the key, but we can not wait forever." Viconia drew her mace while talking, getting ready to fight.

"If we have to fight in there, I want everyone to stay by the door. T formation, Anomen at point, Arik, left, Viconia right, Yoshimo behind me. Everyone understand?"

"Milady, what if they archers of their own?" said Anomen, a look of concern on her face. "The Drow and I have shields, but you and your brother will have no defense against them."

"You're sweet, but I can handle myself, and Arik knows how to approach an archer without a shield."

"Yeah," Arik said, "Don't."

"Cute. Anomen, go ahead when you're ready, we'll follow you."

Anomen turned the key and, after a second's hesitation, swung the door open and barreled into the room.

"You, get out of here now!" came a voice from room, as did the sound of swords being drawn. Arik moved quickly inside, having to squeeze path Viconia, and drawing his sword the moment he saw what was inside.

It made prisons look warm and homely. Arik made a quick count of twenty people, adult male humans, locked in a cell that a noble family could use for a closet, that is if they didn't mind the smell. All of the prisoners had a malnourished, but tough and capable look about them, eyes wide with hope.

Hope that a five on four advantage still meant something, for the voice had come from one of four guards, armed with massive swords and wearing worn but sturdy chain mail, looking the part of seasoned warriors with very loose morals.

"Lay down your arms, fiends, and you may live to see tomorrow!" snarled Anomen, sword and at the ready.

As a response, the thugs charged the line as one. Arik quickly lost track of his allies, leaping to the side to dodge an overhead slash and countering with weak slash that raked across the metal links. The guard took a wide swing and then another, forcing Arik back, unable to parry the bastard sword with his blade.

Thankfully, Arik could see the rest of the party was doing much better. One guard was already dead, sprouting four arrows, two real and two of flame, Anomen had landed a few glancing slashes, tearing open his foe's armor, and while Viconia's mace lay on the ground, her foe was using his sword as a crutch, the priestesses magical touch seeming to have opened up a few wounds, armor or no.

The thug Arik was fighting, however, took another swing at the rogue's neck. Arik ducked under the slow swing and drove his blade into the guard's chest, piercing the armor but without enough force to do anything more than cause a light wound. Unfortunately, Arik had moved too close and a backhand from his enemy sent him sprawling.

Normally, Arik would roll with the blow, keep a tight hold on his sword and tumble to his feet far enough from the enemy to recover before he could press the advantage, but the moment the blow connected, the pain in his chest seized again. His vision flared, his balance became lost and, worse of all, Arik's right hand dropped his sword and instinctively moved to his chest.

And, to put the final nail in the coffin, rather than a graceful roll, he landed hard on his shoulder and flopped onto his back, prone and defenseless.

The guard, oblivious to the systematic defeat being handed out to his kin, sauntered over, a smug grin on his face. "I hope you enjoyed your stay with us, _hero_," he said, spitting out the last word. "Do stay with us ag-"

Arik, acting on instinct, went into the fetal position, protecting his vitals just before the thug burst into flames, all over his body, all at once, killing him before he had time to scream and turning his body to ash all in a matter of seconds, the ruined steel sword clattered to the ground.

"Arik," Kyri said, gasping for breath, "are you alright?"

"Yeah, sis, just fine. I, uh, had him?" he muttered, weakly.

"Milady..." Anomen said, reaching for the sorceress who was leaning on her quarterstaff.

"I'm fine," Kyri snapped. "Viconia, heal Arik up."

"Please, good sir," said one of the prisoners, a man radiating as much command as he was stench, stood at the bars. He continued, addressing Anomen, "Help us! You may know not who I am, but we are slaves here, forced to fight for the patrons' amusement!"

"I'm in charge here," Kyri said, sounding rather annoyed. "Who are you?"

"My name is Hendak, miss," he said, a dark look on his face. "I own the Copper Coronet."


	7. 7: Slaver's Death, Part 1

"Tell me, _jaluk_," Viconia said sweetly, sitting carefully on a crate, "have I called you a fool today yet?"

Arik groaned, rubbing his nose. "I had him. You know, I think that blow knocked my nose back to where it used to be." He glanced over to the cell, seeing his sister in deep conversation with Hendak.

"Ah, so, you had him right where you wanted you, right?" Yoshimo said with a laugh, digging through the pockets of the slain guardsmen.

"Show some respect for the dead, Yoshimo." Anomen was keeping a wary, albeit very active, eye on Kyri, doing his best not to watch the bounty hunter loot the fallen, and as such failed to notice Yoshimo's response. "And, Arik, if you need lessons with the sword, feel free to ask."

"I do not need help with the blade," Arik said. "My counter should have-"

"But it didn't, _wael._" Viconia laughed. "It seems that I've kept up on my quota after all. And that backhand, you fight like child with a toy sword."

Anomen broke his vigil of Kyri, giving Viconia a deep glare. "He almost died, witch. I doubt he's in the mood to be insulted."

"Almost died?" She gave a mock laugh. "All that happened was that our poor _velg'lam_ had to hide under his sister's skirt again. How is it there?"

"A bit cramped, but you can't beat the view," Arik said, laughing.

"The smell must be vile."

"After being in Baldur's Gate's sewers, I can honestly say I've smelled worse."

Anomen closed his eyes in prayer. "Oh, Lord Helm, what have I done to deserve allies such as these?"

"I would like to note," said Yoshimo, "that I have not and would never besmirch a lady's honor." Confident that no more loot lay on the guard's person, he moved over to the one slain by Viconia and began his search anew.

Arik shook his head. "There they go again, talking about Kyri having honor," he said to a snickering Viconia. "Don't know where they get this stuff."

"Hilarious," said Anomen, clearly trying hard not to be drawn into the discussion.

_To the hells with being polite, time to ask._ "Question, Anomen: Why are you here? Do prospective members of the Most Holy Order of the Radiant Heart routinely look for trouble in a Slums tavern, and do you really willingly fight alongside two enemies of society and a drow?"

Anomen's eyes narrowed at the thief. "Does it matter? Your sister trusts me."

"Ky's been fooled before. For rogues, paranoia's part of the job. Viconia needs protection and she's shown her trustworthiness back up north. Yoshimo's in it for the coin, and that could be worrying if there wasn't so much coin to be had." _Even though I'd like a cut of that bounty,_ Arik neglected to mention.

"You, though, are here only out of the goodness of your heart."

"And you don't trust those who fight for good," Anomen said, more a statement than a question.

Arik hesitated. "Well, those who fight for coin are a bit easier to work with, truth be told."

"I see." He sighed. "The truth is, I was... encouraged to seek out work here. That does not mean that I could not find allies in the better parts of town," he added quickly. "Rather, one of the knights in the order, Sir Ryan, gave me some advice.

"You see, it is quite difficult to become a knight in the order, and almost all of those who become knights are paladins," he said, somehow not sounding bitter at this. "I suppose this is because of the oaths a paladin must take and how they mirror those that the Order requires, but although I have sworn my loyalty to Helm and Helm alone, I know that I could make an excellent knight if given the chance.

"I have proven myself in battle many times before, fighting ogres, orcs and other assorted villainous monsters alongside others in the Order," he said, beaming with pride, "but I have never fought alongside..." he hesitated.

Arik smirked. "Honorless swine?"

"Affronts to society?" supplied Yoshimo.

"Followers of vile gods?" said Viconia.

"No, but-" Anomen sighed and plunged on, feelings be damned. "Sir Ryan phrased it better, but yes, all of those. He said I needed to understand why some fight. After all," he continued, "not everyone is a paladin, and it can't simply be that you would risk your life for gold."

"Sorry, just coin," said Arik, just as Yoshimo said "No, only for gold."

"Well, Helmite," said Viconia in a taunting tone, ignoring the thieves' chorus, "it seems we have something in common after all."

"Is that so, drow?" he said, eyes narrowing.

"Of course. You seek to wish to find out why I fight, and I wonder why you do so as well." Her eyes lit up, and she gave him a sly grin. "Perhaps we could... compare notes later on, _jaluk_. I'm sure it would provide us both with a... valuable learning experience."

Anomen very nearly growled. "I swear, drow-"

"Viconia."

"As I said, drow," he said, with extra emphasis, "if you attempt to seduce me one more time, I will not be held responsible for my actions. Let me be."

"A pity," she said, with no sorrow in her voice. "You look like a strong one."

"Huh. Yoshimo," whispered Arik, "do you think that it's because he's afraid he'll hit her, or because he's afraid he'll say yes?"

"I do not know, my friend," he said, grinning wide, "but I know what my answer would be."

Arik smothered a laugh. "If only, huh?"

-----------

Archers had always posed a problem for Arik, as more than half of the injuries he'd sustained as an adventurer had been due to well-aimed arrows or lucky shots. If you have a shield, than you just need to hunker down behind it and pray to Tymora for no lucky shots while you move in close. Or, you can use nearby objects as temporary shields and move quickly between them.

As such, when you don't use a shield, the battlefield is a long corridor notably bereft of large crates or tables, and the archer in question has six hundred pounds of meat shield in the form of two pairs of very obedient panthers guarding him, the above tactics don't work so well.

Another arrow flew through the open door and whizzed by Arik's head, breaking against the wall. He took this opportunity to turn into the door and unload his crossbow at the so-called Beastmaster, but missing as the enemy ducked under the overturned table. Anomen and Viconia were holding off panthers with some difficulty, Yoshimo also looking for a lucky shot while hiding behind the doorway and Kyri nursing an arrow wound from when she had tried to throw a fireball on him.

"I really wish I knew that protection from arrows spell," she said, dropping an empty healing potion next to Arik.

_Wind wind wind wind wind_ went Arik's crossbow. "Would be handy. You feeling better?"

"Just great," she said, grimacing as she moved her arm. "You think you can give me a clear shot?"

"Nope, not for as long as it takes you to cast a spell."

_Thunk._ Hearing the miss, Arik and Yoshimo quickly moved into the doorway and took shots at the archer, both missing.

"Damn it all, this'll take forever," Arik said, winding his crossbow. "Why not stoneskin and blast?"

"After saving your hide, I think a fireball is about all I can manage right now."

_Thunk,_ went an arrow into the wall, nearly breaking through it. _Thunk thunk,_ went the return fire from the thieves, scoring more hits on the table, now pincushion.

"Hey, Beastmaster!" yelled Arik, "Surrender! We'll be gentle!"

"No!" came the reply. "You surrender! I'll be gentle!"

_Thunk. Thunk Thunk._

Arik began winding his crossbow again. "We just want the key to the cells! That's all!"

"Ha! I like working for Lehtinan! I'll keep the key and feed you to my pets!"

Arik sighed. "I'm starting to not like this guy."

_Thunk. Thunk Thunk._

"Do you think Anomen and Viconia can beat those cats?" Kyri asked.

"No bet, unless we chip in and-" Arik paused. "What are you planning?"

"I might be able to cast-" _Thunk. Thunk thunk._ "a fireball now and throw it later."

Yoshimo stared at her. "You think?"

"It wouldn't blow up in our face, so don't worry about that. Really, all I'm doing is casting the spell and holding it in my hand. The way a fireball works is tha-" _Thunk. Thunk Thunk. _"Can I finish my sentence before you fire back?

_Wind wind wind wind wind. _"You're taking too long, sis. Give us the short version."

She snorted. "Fine. It should work, it might fizzle, but it won't blow up in our face. I just need to focus on it."

A cry of pain came from inside the room, followed by a rather verbose curse in drow. "Do something, _yah'dalhar_, and do it now!"

"As you command," Kyri muttered under her breath. She began to cast the spell, an assortment of strange words of power, and a small, bright ball of light formed in her palm, swirling and flickering a bit but remaining strong. Nevertheless, the effort was showing on Kyri's face, her eyes focused hard on the orb, jaw grimly set, pouring all of her focus into containing the little ball of energy and magic until the opportune-

_Thunk. Thunk thunk. _Kyri smiled, jumped to the doorway, and let it go.

_BOOM _went the fireball, a massive explosion of heat and sound filling the room. The table the Beastmaster had been ducking behind evaporated into a cloud of splinters. The panthers, while further away from the blast center still were badly scorched and fell quickly to Arik and Yoshimo's blades. And the Beastmaster, well, he went from rather healthy to well done in a matter of moments.

"Anomen! Viconia! Are you two alright?" Kyri yelled, racing to the cleric's side.

A bewildered, and slightly seared, Anomen looked about. "What... what was that?"

"Overkill, Helmite. The _yah'dalhar_-"

"Stop calling me that," Kyri interrupted.

"Our leader," Viconia continued with a snort, "threw a fireball far to close to us."

"You did say-"

"I would think you smart enough to save us and not kill us as well. Clearly I was wrong. I must stop having so much faith in surfacers," the drow said, shaking her head.

"That's really funny, Viconia. Arik, do you mind getting the key?" Kyri said, clearly not asking, while she helped Anomen to his feet. The cleric was certainly not looking well, having taken the worst of the blast among those still alive.

Arik took one look at the Beastmaster's corpse and made the decision. "Yoshimo, search his body for the key, I'll, uh, look for it in what's left of the table and crates."

"Me? Why should I do it?"

Arik gave him a blank stare. "Because I really don't want to. It... it's the smell." He faked a shudder. "I'll owe you, okay?"

"No need," Viconia said, limping over to a glittering piece of metal lying in the wreckage. "Oh, look, the guard didn't keep the key on this person."

"Good. Lets rest up here for a few minutes. I think Anomen really needs it."

It was true. Anomen, aside from missing a great deal of eyebrow, was staring off into space, a distant look on his face. His legs gave out and he slumped back down to the ground, dragging a contesting, though heavily outmatched, sorceress to the ground. Although the panthers' teeth and claws merely slid on the heavy plate and shield, and the chain mail worn underneath did an excellent job of protecting the places the plate mail did not, the sheer force of 160 pounds of leaping cat was enough to knock him around a bit, likely causing no small number of bruises, not to mention the possibility of a few broken bones.

And then there was the fireball.

"Viconia, how were you not injured by the leader's display of awe-inspiring magic?" asked Yoshimo, examining the fine, delicate work on the looted bow that was nearly ruined by the blaze.

"I am Drow, fool, not some simpering human."

Arik barked out a laugh. "It also helped that she was lying on her back when the blast hit."

"Ah, a familiar position for her, no doubt."

"Vi," Kyri said, "get over here and help Anomen. Unless you'd rather get insulted by the thieves."

Viconia sighed. "So much changes, and still, two thieves are thinking themselves my betters."

Arik watched her, carefully, as she made her way over to the dazed Helmite. Damn it all if that armor didn't fit ti-.

"Arik, I have been meaning to ask you a question."

"Hm?" Arik grunted, reluctantly turning his eyes away to face the bounty hunter. "What's the matter?"

"What, exactly, are Irenicus' powers? Does he have any weaknesses? Anything like that that would make our... pursuit of him any easier?"

"Well, remember, we're not pursuing him. The Cowled Wizards have him locked up in a nice, shiny cell. I think, at least, it'd be shiny. They don't seem the type to have the traditional rat-infested dungeon. More like one where everything glows and the bars are made of magic and such." Arik frowned. "This, of course, brings up the question of who would put out a bounty on someone who's been arrested already?" he said, giving the Kara-Turan a wary look.

"Ah, I never said the bounty was legal, did I? It turns out that a... prominent group in Athkatla is dissatisfied with the quality of justice that the Cowled Wizards dispenses. Most importantly, they are less than confident that Irenicus can be held within whatever prison Wizards can manage, and are... is incensed a good word?"

"I suppose. I prefer angry or irate, though."

"Well, at the very least they are not pleased that Irenicus was not executed by the Wizards, instead just imprisoned. However, they did hear that Irenicus and your Imoen were sent to the same place. So, we rescue your sister and kill a hopefully helpless villain, and I walk away with a good deal of gold."

"So, the Shadow Thieves really want him dead, huh?"

Yoshimo grinned. "I never said that the Shadow Thieves were behind this bounty. They are not the only underground organization who does bounties in this city."

Arik grinned. "Ah, but the Shadow Thieves were the ones attacking Irenicus' dungeon, and they lost a whole lot of people in that fight. And you haven't said that it's not the Shadow Thieves, by the way."

"You do not trust me!" Yoshimo said, blatantly feigning shock.

"I'd trust you more if you told me who put the bounty out," Arik said, smiling.

"Ah, but if I told you, then you could leave me behind and take the bounty for yourself. Ten thousand gold is a lot of money."

Arik gasped, but still smiling. "What, don't you trust me?"

"Not with ten thousand gold pieces at stake. No offense meant, by the way. I wouldn't trust my mother with ten thousand gold pieces."

Arik shook his head, indicating that no offense was taken. "I know what you mean. I trust my sisters, both of them, with my life, but I'd hesitate to trust them with that kind of coin."

Meanwhile, throughout all of this, the back of Arik's mind was churning. _Hm,_ he thought, _he's definitely hiding something else..._ He trusted Yoshimo, a little at least, but something in the back of his mind felt... off. That little voice in the back of his mind wasn't screaming, not yet, but things still... well, felt off.

To be fair, though, Arik knew he wasn't in the Gate anymore, or Candlekeep. He'd read a great deal on the fabled City of Coin, the existence of a place where you could get anything you could imagine, and some things you couldn't, just by paying a few gold pieces. There were downsides to this, of course, the slavers they were currently hunting being one of the more notable ones, but the possibilities this kind of place were just staggering.

_Ky was right about one thing in that damned letter,_ he had thought the day before, _I could thrive here._

But, still, Arik had just gotten here. One day was one day and reading all the treatises in Candlekeep on the city wouldn't give him the kind of knowledge that he needed. Certainly not to really understand the players in the underground crime world here in Athkatla.

Still...

Arik broke off that train of thought, hearing Yoshimo ask a question. "They spend gold quickly?"

"Ha! Yeah, Ky'll spend gold on anything that glows with magic. Still, I'd kinda prefer to trust Kyri over Im with lots of coin. At least I'll be able to see what she spends it on."

"Ah, the perils of working with another thief. Then again, there are some benefits, are there not?" Arik gave a wide grin at that last question. Yoshimo went on, asking "Have you two worked together on any jobs?"

"Yeah, back in Baldur's Gate, we did this thing we were calling 'Faerun's worst shell game'. She'd set up a shell game, you know, put a ball under one of three cups, move them around and the player doubles his money if he picks the right shell."

"I know what a shell game is."

Arik shrugged. "Just making sure. Anyway, ours worked different than normal. Im would do it a bit differently, though. Instead of the normal con, disappearing the ball with sleight of hand, she'd play it a bit more, well, in the mark's favor."

"Meaning?"

"Imoen would lose every game. Every one." Arik sighed, remembering the good times. "She was really good at that, too. She'd sleight of hand a few extra balls in, putting one under each shell. Or, on a round where she did sneak the ball out properly, she'd drop it when picking up the won gold. Right on the gold." Arik grinned. "She had to give them their money back then..."

"I am a bit confused. Is the point of the shell game to take the Mark's money?"

"To be fair, this was more of a performance piece than anything. That's why it was Imoen, she's really, really good at toying with people's feelings. She'd pout, sniffle, she could even cry on command. The whole idea was for her to play the bumbling thief wannabe, get the marks to laugh and feel sorry for her. People love to laugh at thieves, after all, almost as much as Paladins. And then every so often she'd break the act and ask for donations, saying 'Com'on, help me out here! You're having fun, I'm having fun, just a little charity's all I ask!'"

"And this is a con how...?"

Arik started, broken from the good memories. "Hm? Oh, right. Well, while they were all watching and laughing, occasionally pointing, I would walk around the crowd and pick pockets and cut coin-purses." He shrugged, a little embarrassed. "To be honest, Im's donations sometimes were more than my... contributions. I'm good, but she's so much better..."

Arik's face fell as he thought about his sister, about Imoen's capture, about Irenicus. In an instant, the pain flared again, with the feeling of an invisible knife carving a spiral over his heart. "I... I need to save her. She..." he said, doing his best to belie no sign of the agony.

Yoshimo nodded. "I understand, my friend. We will save her." He put his hand on Arik's shoulder and gave him a warm smile. "When we have a chance, you will have to tell me some more stories about your exploits. I will even buy the first round." He gave a strange look, and then barked out a laugh. "And you have not yet answered my original question!"

A wry, bitter smile blossomed on Arik's face. "Heh. Later, Yoshimo. It looks like the meat shield is back on his feet. Just remember, Imoen's more important than some locked up mad wizard, despite everything I'd love to do to him. It's a long list."

As Arik turned away from his new friend the bounty hunter, he almost missed the familiar look of intense pain that flashed across Yoshimo's face.

Almost.

----------

The sorceress was badly drained. Both clerics had expended most, if not all, of their magics in the two previous fights, not to mention healing Anomen's lightly seared flesh.

It was fortunate, then, that Hendak did not require the party's assistance once they prison key was turned.

Arik had never fought a gladiator, and for that he was infinitely grateful. A gladiator, at first at least, is no better a fighter than anyone else. But a gladiator that _survives_ longer than a week is something else. They cannot live on luck, not forever. They cannot live on the strength of the man next to them, because so much of the fighting they do is alone. And they certainly cannot rely on magic weapons or armor to protect them, as they fought with rusted weaponry more often than not. Their muscles are strong, their body is lean and they know, in their heart of hearts, that they'll live only as long as they keep winning.

And they have no illusions of the honor of combat. They hit anything with anything, just so long as they are still standing at the end. While malnutrition may not give them the kind of endurance other seasoned warriors may have, they don't waste time either.

Only a dozen of the gladiators were well enough to fight, Hendak included, but they swept through the inn like fire. What guards foolish enough to fight fell quickly, their superior equipment no match for the fury of a skilled slave just freed.

Arik had been looking forward to Hendak's duel against Lehtinan, but it was sadly disappointing. However the slaver had gotten control of the Coronet, it was clearly not through force of arms on his part. Just a clumsy swing by Lehtinan, with a sword far too large for him, that was easily ducked, and Hendak just ran him through with both long swords.

That was an hour ago. The bar was still mostly deserted, although most who had left during the fighting had returned, figuring that they didn't care much about who owned the place, so long as the ale flowed.

Speaking of which, the party was well into their second round, taking things slow on account that the sun had only recently reached its peak, and Kyri was telling one of those old stories.

"So we're in the Nashkel mines, and it's full of kobolds. We've just killed this small patrol of them and we run into this series of traps. Four of them, one after another, in a row, trap trap trap trap. Now, I'm sure that Imoen would have disarmed them all, easily, but these are really the first traps, the first real traps set up by someone trying to kill the trappees, she's ever seen. So she's... she's..."

"Disarming, Ky," Arik finished for her. Elves and ale, spellcasters and ale, it was almost sad.

"Right," she slurred. "She's disarming them, but it's taking forever. We're all tense, and while Arik is helping her, and me and Dynaheir are talking about magic-" Arik snorted. What she and Dynaheir did back then was argue at the top of their lungs. Kyri didn't seem to notice, though, and went on. "-and Jahiera and Khalid are being nice and patient, Minsc, well, is this huge, and I mean huge, bundle of nerves. Finally, after two traps are disarmed, he snaps.

"He grabs one of the dead kobolds and hurls it at the next trap. The body lands right on the trap and this pile of rocks drop on it!" She laughed hugely at this, almost falling off the bench. "You should've seen Imoen and Arik's faces! And then Minsc does it again! In ten seconds he disarms both of the traps, just like that! And _then_ he says "Ah, maybe Minsc and Boo are rogues too!"

Yoshimo had the decency to look a little offended at this, but his eyes were smiling all the same. Anomen, on the other hand, let out a loud laugh and slapped the table with his hand. Arik rolled his eyes and said, "Yeah, yeah, he made a lucky throw."

Kyri giggled. A sign of doom if there ever was one. "Anomen," Arik said, "can you help Kyri up to her room? She's had enough."

Anomen raised an eyebrow at the thief. "She's only halfway into her second round."

Viconia smirked. "The _yah'dalhar_ drinks ale like a child."

"Stop speaking that vile language, drow."

"_Nau_."

Arik sighed. "Anomen, just take her upstairs, okay?"

"You trust me with her?"

"I think I can trust a Helmite with a drunken maiden." Arik took a sip of his drink. "But, if it makes you feel better, touch her wrong and I'll kill you."

Anomen smirked at the threat. "I might be intimidated if you had not been cold-clocked by a simple thug. Don't worry," he said to Arik's glare, "I will be a gentleman."

"Do I get a say?" the drunken sorceress slurred.

"No, sis. Just go with the nice not-paladin."

Anomen helped her up and to the stairs up to the rooms and, while the display of Kyri attempting to climb stairs while drunk was entertaining, Arik quickly averted his eyes, wanting to avoid seeing anything he wouldn't like. Then again, the case of explosive friendly fire seemed to have cooled off the squire a bit, clearly remembering exactly how much power was stored in that lithe figure.

"So," Yoshimo said, "What do we do now? We have been paid, yes?"

"Yeah, Hendak gave our fearless leader some gemstones as a reward. I took a look, figure I could get maybe three thousand total for them all. If I'm lucky. Still, it is a start. Tomorrow we'll have to start looking for work. There's bound to be someone who needs something defended or killed or stole. Might even be able to find something where we have the moral high ground." Arik smiled. "It's happened before."

"Well, _jaluk_, it seems work may find us," Viconia said, nodding her head towards the main bar. Hendak was winding his way through the early afternoon crowd, heading towards the group. "How is it that trouble always seems to find you?"

"Frankly, I figure that trouble finds Ky and hits me because I'm in the way."

"Perhaps you should find a better position to be in, no?" Yoshimo joked.

"Maybe, but then things would get boring."

"Heroes!" Hendak said upon arrival. "Where is your leader?"

"Getting her head down, Hendak," Arik replied.

"Already? Isn't it a little early?"

"It's early for a lot of things, and that's part of the reason. 'sides, she was pretty drained from all the spellcasting. The way she casts, it can really tire her. Did she get to sleep okay?" he said to Anomen, just returning to the table, who nodded in assent.

"Early for what sort of things?" Hendak said, confused.

"Well, besides all of the fighting? Elven sorceress, human ale." Hendak laughed at this, and Arik plunged on. "What do you need her for?"

Hendak hesitated before answering. "I should probably talk-"

"Look, I'm pretty much second in command here." Ignoring an inexplicably cackling Viconia, he continued. "If you have something you'd like us to do, well, we still need coin to rescue a friend, so out with it!"

"Very well. I don't think it would surprise you to learn that Lehtinan was involved with more than just gladiator matches," he said with a grimace. "In fact, he did a whole slew of slaving. I've spent the last hour digging through his papers and I've discovered that his group ran most of the slaves through a house, here in the slums."

"Where?" Arik asked.

"He didn't say. What he did say was that was you could get there through a door in the back halls of my bar. I know that door. It leads to the sewers, though, and he doesn't say much about how to get there, aside from a series of letters."

"Hmm, probably a code of some sort. Ky is okay with cryptography, she'll probably figure it out," he said, taking the piece of parchment from Hendak.

Hendak hesitated. "You don't have a problem with entering the sewers?"

Arik shook his head. "Frankly? I'm kinda used to it by now. At some point your nose just stops working. How many?"

"Slaves? I don't know. According to Lehtinan, somewhere between twenty and thirty at any time." His eyes narrowed. "Some of them are children."

Anomen let out a low growl. "Let us go there now! Summon the Watch and put these dogs down before they can regroup!"

"Yeah, right. The Watch has known for a while, but they've been... persuaded to ignore it." Arik gave a grim look. "They don't even have to be sneaky about it. No, the Watch'll give us no help. And I don't think your little army should help, Hendak. They've been through enough as it is, and it wouldn't surprise me to see a counter-attack before the weeks over, let alone the day. But I was asking about how many slavers we'll be expecting."

"Oh. A dozen fighters and a couple wizards are there at all times, and a half-dozen others who abduct people. And a few trolls, if you can believe that."

Arik sighed. "I can," he said, thinking about the tactics and spells needed for this fight. "Time to rest up, everyone. I know, it's still early," to the chorus of sarcastic moans from Yoshimo and Viconia, "but we'll need some magic, and we'll need to be ready to fight. As for spells, can't think of anything special. Maybe something to deal with their spellcasters."

"What about the trolls?" asked Anomen. "You need fire or acid to slay them."

Arik gave Anomen a long stare. "...okay, Viconia, you take this one."

"_Wael_ of a _jaluk_," she began, deliberately provoking the Helmite, "the three displays of magic that Kyri has shown you so far, what element have they used?" Anomen's face hardly changed, still a piercing glare at Viconia, but his eyes closed once he realized what she meant. "So, did that last fireball remove what sense you did have, or are you always this addled? Even the ranger who constantly talked to a rodent would have known that."

"Enough," Anomen said, standing up from the table. "Hendak, we will end these slavers, but the rogue is correct, we must be ready for the fight. I swear to you, they will not live through the night." He turned to the rest of the group. "We should rest now. The sooner our powers are replenished, the sooner these villains will be punished!"

"As you say, noble cleric, I look forward to sleeping! Our enemies will recoil in terror upon our snores!" Yoshimo said, following the cleric up the stairs.

"So, Arik," Viconia said, after Anomen, Yoshimo and Hendak had left the area, "why, really, do you not want the assistance of Hendak's men or the Watch?"

Arik sighed. "It may surprise you to learn this, Viconia, but everything I said is true. The Watch is being bribed and unlikely to risk their lives so their pay can be reduced, and Hendak's gladiators have been through far too much to ask them to risk their lives again, especially since, yes, I don't think that the slavers are going to let control of the Coronet slip away uncontested, even though they probably have no idea what's actually going on right now. What about this is so difficult for you to understand?"

"Were it Kyri and her foolish optimism, that I could understand. And, yes, _jaluk_, your excuses are true, but the fact remains, you are refusing free assistance. _Free_ assistance."

"And I can't act noble at times?"

Viconia gave Arik an odd, measuring look. "This noble? No, you have never acted like this, not this altruistic. So, again, how does fighting without assistance benefit you?"

Arik grinned at her. "Damn it all. Okay, fine. Take all of what I said, and append that if we brought help, they'd feel entitled to a share of the spoils. And slavers have such nice things."

She smiled. "That sounds more like you, _jaluk_. Perhaps there is hope for you yet."

He paused. "You know, I'm not sure how to feel about that. By the way, _yah'dalhar_ means what I think it means, right?"

"God-child, yes."

"Why don't you stop calling Ky that before we start teaching Anomen Drow? Let's try to give him as few reasons as possible for changing coats on us."


	8. 8: Slaver's Death, Part 2

Wooo, another chapter! Please R&R, even if you don't like it! Reviews are the fuel by which us fan-fic writers live!

Hope you enjoy the chapter and, just a note, yes, many of the magic items are of my own creation. Stupid rules, always getting in the way .

-------------------

"_Arik," Kyri weakly cried out across the hall, "are you there?"  
_

_His chest still sore from the villain's ministrations, Arik coughed before answering. "Yeah, sis, I'm still here. Wish I weren't, for what it's worth."_

"_What did he do to you?"_

_He hesitated. He couldn't see his sister, the gloom in the dungeon not working well with his human eyes, but he knew that tone: His sister was over-thinking, worrying about everyone else, blaming herself.  
_

_Her worrying wasn't going to suddenly make him feel better, and him lying could make things easier for her. Maybe. "Nothing, really. He keeps asking about you, demanding that I tell him about-"_

_Kyri let out a bitter laugh. "You're lying, Arik."_

_Arik winced. "A little torture, but only because I'm not talking. More like getting stabbed with soft pillows," he lied again. "Nothing like what he's doing to you."_

"_This is because of me, isn't it? He's doing this because of me."_

"_I'm not sure."_

"_You're lying again."_

"_No, not this time. He-"_

"_So you were lying before?" Was she smiling? Her voice was too bitter and the room too dark to tell._

"_Let me finish. He seemed... confused. Like he didn't know who was who..."_

_He heard a sob come from her cell. "He's evil, Arik. Everything that he's been doing, it's evil and it's because of me. He's told me as much, so stop lying."_

"_No, he's not evil. Obsessed, maybe, but not evil. I don't know why he's doing all of this, but it's not just to torture us. Hells, he even apologized to me for all this."_

_That is what he didn't say. Calling someone evil focused you, Arik knew. It made things easier, knowing that your enemy, your torturer, was just a twisted, vile, cruel mockery of a man. Better than being someone not all that different from you. But Arik had heard the hesitation in Irenicus' voice, heard the calmness, heard the joy, not at causing pain but at discovery._

_An obsessive, looking for something he needed more than air, someone willing and able to do anything in the pursuit of it._

_Hells, maybe that was evil. But this was neither the time nor the place for such philosophic discussions on the nature of evil. And Kyri needed all the help she could get, Arik knew._

"_Yeah. He's evil, sis. But we defeated Sarevok, even with every bounty hunter on the Sword Coast looking for us. We'll break out of here, no sweat," he said, channeling as much false bravado as he could into his voice._

_He heard a snort, a bitter, ugly substitute for a laugh. "Yeah. No sweat."_

--------------------

Whereas yesterday's wake up call was a sharp, slicing pain all across his chest, every cut he had taking repeating itself in a minute of agony, today's was a bit more subdued. Merely a dull ache in comparison, the mere feeling of the whole of his chest being, literally, on fire, with the occasional stab of jarring pain to break his futile attempts at overcoming the constant agony.

Perhaps this was just to keep his guard down the next morning, making things less predictable. Maybe it was due to the fighting he had done the day previous, the magics keeping track.

Or maybe it was because he had been set on fire a few times, his sister's aim not being at a marksman's level. Viconia had gotten very, very good at healing burns.

Nevertheless, as painful as his awakening was, Arik was finding a certain squire to be even more aggravating.

Well, almost as aggravating. Few things can truly compare to flaming wake-up call. But, oh, Anomen was truly trying his best.

"I refuse! I will never adopt any of that wicked culture!" Anomen nearly shouted at Arik.

Arik sighed. "I'm not asking you to start making sacrifices to Lolth! It's a language! A bunch of sounds! And only a few dozen words!"

"It is a language used by the most vile of villains! What use is such a language?"

Arik all but screamed at the Helmite, "Because no one knows it!" Aware of the variety of concerned looks from the other patrons, he took a moment to calm himself. "Look, it's simple. Sometimes, we're dealing with people that we can't fully trust or people we might need to fool. It happens. And, if we're talking in common, they know what we're saying. So, we use Drow. It's a rather unique language that almost no one outside the Underdark knows. Hells, I grew up in Candlekeep, and it was hard to find a Drow dictionary even there!

"It isn't like we use it to submit pleas to evil gods-" Arik went on, before being interrupted by a jarring cough from Viconia. "Okay, most of us don't use Drow to submit pleas to evil gods," he conceded. "But it's a strategic decision, not an act of submission to villainy and evil. And," he said, cutting off Anomen's next question, "it won't be Viconia teaching you. Ky knows the language well enough to do it yourself."

Anomen sighed heavily, shaking his head sadly. "What you say does have some merit, Arik. I will consider it. But, in any case, where is your sister?

"Shopping."

"Not shopping, _jaluk_," Viconia cut in, "gathering supplies with Yoshimo. We are to traverse the sewers and assault our enemies, these slavers. We may need some help."

He grinned. "You call it what you will, but I'll wager five gold that Ky has a giant smile on her face when she gets back."

They sat there for a few moments, enjoying the strange feeling of your first meal of the day being dinner. But the shaky alliance between the three of them could not hold Anomen for long. He was clearly used to fighting alongside those like him, honored squires in the service of the Order of the Radiant Heart, and his new allies were clearly confusing him greatly, no more so than the evil cleric who had expended much of her magics earlier in the day healing his many injuries quite expertly and, from what he had been told, with no complaint.

"Drow," he said, eliciting a groan from Arik, "you seem eager to defeat a group of slavers."

"Not eager, _jaluk_, and refer to me by my name. I have ceased being amused by your petty hatred."

Anomen's eyes narrowed, and Arik started praying under his breath for Kyri to get back before a fight broke out. "I will call you what I wish, Drow, just as you do."

She rolled her eyes. "In any case, I am not 'chomping at the bit', as you say, but if you are wondering if I will aid those slavers in our fight, you have yet to learn a great deal."

"You're answer, in that case, is 'trust me'? How much of a fool do you think me to be?"

Viconia had just opened her mouth when Arik broke in, saying, "Don't answer that, V."

She sighed. "Very well. Rest assured, Anomen, I hold no love of these foolish slavers."

"A Drow disliking slavery," Anomen said, mocking her stance. "How could I not believe that?"

"Did I say I disliked slavery? I find it useful, after all, someone must empty the chamber pots, or would you rather do that yourself? No, these fools think that they are the great, simply because they can bribe a few watchmen and are able to ambush beggars in the slums. True strength comes from overcoming true challenges, not greedy guards and _rivvil_ that can barely lift a sword." She spat on the ground before catching Anomen's gaze once again. "I have more respect for the lowliest of males in the Underdark than I do for the so-called slavemasters."

"But-"

"Drow respect strength, _wael_. That is why I fight for Kyri, because she has more power in her left hand than you could ever hope to have.

She glanced to the door and rose from her seat. "Ah, it appears the _yah-_," she said before a sharp glare from Arik cut her off. "Very well, it appears _Kyri_ has returned. And you owe me five gold, Arik. I would call that expression one of deep thought rather than immense joy."

She left the table, following Kyri and Yoshimo to the back rooms where the sewer entrance was. Arik stood to follow, but noticed the Helmite's thoughtful expression. "Something wrong, Anomen?"

Anomen shook his head, as if to dislodge his thoughts. "I suppose there is. Firstly, do you ever use proper grammar when speaking?"

Arik smirked. "On occasion. What else?"

"It is just... what she said..." He sighed, frowning. "I do not understand her."

Arik nodded. "And yet, what she said makes a great deal of sense." Anomen nodded, and Arik went on. "Viconia's smart, Anomen. She's a lying whore when she wants to be, and that's a lot of the time, but don't think that just because she's not very nice that she's an idiot. You know Sarevok, the villain our little group beat back up in the Gate? A powerful warrior and evil as they come, but he was almost able to start a war between the Gate and Amn, he murdered many important men in Baldur's Gate, and he even managed to frame Ky for murder in her own damn home!

"Evil doesn't mean stupid, Anomen. Never has. What she said about strength is true enough." He paused. "Just remember that it's her talking when she spouts wisdom, and not an aged Paladin. Now come on, my sister went shopping, regardless of her expression, and that means we have new toys." He grinned wide. "Lets go kill some slavers."

--------------------

"By Helm, what is that unholy stench?"

"You really don't want to know, Anomen," Kyri said. The party had just entered the dungeon of cities, the sewers. A man with a good sense of direction, and a very, very poor sense of smell, could theoretically go anywhere in a city via the sewers, if he had the stomach for it.

The problem was that the sewers were built on the fly, without any overarching plan, and had the city planners actually thought out how to lay an underground path that goes everywhere in the city, it's doubtful they would want it to be straightforward. Which was why Arik was hoping like crazy that his sister had managed to figure out the coded directions.

"It's not a code, actually," Kyri said, referring to said directions. "It's a list of markers. I looked around a little after I woke up and found this first symbol scribed on the wall in white paint, right at a fork in the sewers. We just need to follow the symbols and that should take us to the slaver's hideout."

Arik sighed. "That's a bit of an assumption, Ky, but okay, fine, better than any ideas I have. So, what's in the bag?" he said, nodding to a rather full satchel Kyri had with her.

"Supplies," she said, failing to hide her grin. "Two Rods of Light, a few bags of magic 'breadcrumbs', a scroll case and a few wands."

Arik sighed. "Magic breadcrumbs? Do I want to know how much they cost?" He paused, thinking hard. "No, I really don't want to know. Lets just go."

The party, Anomen and Viconia taking point with Yoshimo bringing up the rear, crept slowly underneath the Athkatlan streets, doing their best not to breathe in the less glamorous by-products of civilization. The latter was proving to be the hardest challenge the new party had ever faced, however, for while there was little danger of stepping in anything truly vile, the stench had clearly been building up for some time. Arik had encountered Stinking Cloud spells with a more pleasant odor.

Viconia shuddered after making the ill-advised decision of looking down. "I see you were not exaggerating, Arik."

"You know, I think this is worse than in Baldur's Gate."

"Definitely worse," said Kyri, dropping another of the enchanted rocks called 'breadcrumbs'. "A left up here."

"I assume there are no spells that we could use for this?" said Yoshimo.

"Well, besides throwing around fireballs to burn it away?" Kyri shrugged. "None that I know. I think I've heard of some clerical spells that could do the job, sort of like a Blindness and Deafness spell, but for the sense of smell instead."

"Fireballs would be preferable, if you are sure they would remove this stench," Viconia said.

"I'm just afraid what would happen if I ignited this gas. It could create a fireball that just keeps exploding. Oh, and take a right at this fork."

Anomen winced visibly. "Please, milady, do not use any fire spells down here. I have no desire to be set aflame again."

"Anomen, you're a front line fighter," Arik said. "Trust me, you'll get hit by her fireballs all... the... time."

"My aim is not that poor!" defended Kyri, hitting her brother lightly on the arm. "You just keep running behind their lines when I'm letting fireballs go!"

"Yeah, because you keep yelling at me 'take out their casters, take out their casters!' And _then_ you throw the fireball!"

"Maybe you should listen when I say 'Nevermind, I've got him!'"

"Human ears, sis! I can't hear as well as you can! Besides, since when are battlefields great places for conversation?"

"Do not worry, Helmite," said Viconia, while Arik and Kyri continued their argument. "They do this all the time, and her aim has, in fact, improved since I first met her. Somewhat." Indeed, the Helmite looked extremely tense, constantly looking back at the two siblings with concern.

Anomen smiled, his tension fading. "I do have a sister, so I know how it can be. I just wish they would be quieter. Everyone down here will hear us coming if they keep it up."

"I thought paladins abhorred surprise attacks?"

His smile broke, as he remembered exactly who he was sharing a joke with. "They only use them as weapons of last resort, but, even if I do not want to attack from the darkness like an assassin, that does not mean I'm eager for our enemies to set traps in our path."

Meanwhile, Kyri and Arik's friendly, sibling row was still going on strong. "Don't you know how to take cover from a fireball?" Kyri exclaimed.

"Yes! I have a great method! It's called 'Don't be in the blast radius, idiot!'"

"Good idea! Next time listen to what I... damn it all."

The... well, call it a 'path', ahead in the sewers branched off again. Just as in all the previous forks, a sigil was scrawled onto one of the walls ahead in white pain, theoretically marking the direction as 'right'.

Unfortunately, a symbol was painted on the other wall as well.

"These things can never be simple, can they?" Kyri opened up her satchel and dug around it, pulling out one of the many sheets of paper. "Hmm, there's nothing in here about conflicting directions. According to the instructions, though, we go left now. That's the next symbol on the list."

"Does the one on the right show up in there?"

"Yeah, in three turns."

"Then we go right."

Kyri gave an odd look to her brother. "The directions say left."

"And if I were them, I'd make the written directions accurate if you follow a piece of advice given to anyone who would need to use them, to make it harder for enemies to find their lair. These slavers probably don't often entertain visitors."

"I think you're being a little bit paranoid."

"Yep." He grinned. "So would they. They wouldn't want a group of intrepid adventurers to easily come across their secret base just by finding a scrap of paper, would they? Set up two possible paths, and trap the wrong one as much as possible."

"Milady, he has a point." Anomen was clearly not thrilled to say that, but went on. "These slavers remain alive by being devious, and I would not put such subterfuge beyond them."

"And what if this is double-think?" Kyri replied. "They expect us to think them devious, so they trap the route we're not supposed to take according to the instructions. They're certainly smart enough for that."

"They are slavers, _y_-, Kyri." Viconia said, stuttering over her nickname for the Bhaalspawn. "They are arrogant fools, no matter how many wits they may have about them. I agree with the other fool, the path leads right."

Arik grumbled, "Will you stop calling me a fool?"

"_Nau_."

"Perhaps we could split up?" said Yoshimo. "The wands we acquired would let us keep in contact, yes?"

"Good idea," Kyri said. She went back into her bag and pulled out a small pouch, a second Rod of Light and a long piece of wood with a gem on top, handing them all to Arik. "Arik, take these and Viconia and take the right path. I figured we might need to do something like this, so getting spares only made sense. The bag is another Bag of Magic Breadcrumbs. Drop the rocks inside every so often, and when you say the command word, which I wrote down on some paper in the bag by the way," she added meaningfully, "all of the stones that came from that bag light up. They're reusable too, so remember to pick them up as you come back!"

She continued, firmly in lecture mode. "The Rod of Light works just the same as all the others, and it won't run out of charges either. No command word, just hit the button on the bottom. And the wand is a wand of Message, only the magic's been tweaked so you don't need to point directly at me, just activate it, think of me and speak your message.

"Also, here's a copy of the 'directions'," she went on, putting the paper on top of the pile of gear in Arik's arms. "If you get to another branch, or if you find the slaver's hideout, then shoot a message my way."

"Anything else?" Arik asked, struggling to find a place in his small pack to put everything. _Acquired, huh? No way those gemstones she took from me could pay for all this._

"Be careful, stay to the shadows and don't start having any fun without the rest of us," she finished, the worried look on her face masked by a joking smile.

"We'll be fine, Ky. They'll never see us coming."

"But if they do," Anomen said, poker-faced, "do remember to duck a little faster."

--------------------

Arik always had trouble describing exactly what he did. Of course, he _knew_ what it was that he did, and he was always very conscious of his limits, but describing all of it succinctly without bringing down the wrath of the noble and holy folk had always proven difficult. 'Rogue' was the old standby, but it was too general a term, capable of describing cutpurses, con artists as well as master thieves and certain acrobats. 'Thief' was technically accurate, but Arik was not nearly as capable with traps and locks as one would expect, and he hated the connotation that came along with it, that he cared only for coin. And saying 'Rogue, but nice about it' just brought along disbelief by anyone who heard it, and rightly so.

Nevertheless, Arik had eventually found a good word, after a few hours of digging through the library housed at the Temple of Oghma in Baldur's Gate: _anma'glahk_.

An old word from a long dead elven language, it literally translated into Common as 'Thief of Lives'. Someone capable in methods of killing from the shadows and preferring to attack from behind, a master of stealth and deception. Arik was even reasonably proficient with simple poisons, although he seldom had opportunity to use them. And, being a word that few had heard of, it carried none of the evil implications that the word 'Assassin' had, such as often hiring one-self out to do said assassinations.

Unfortunately, the term 'Thief of Lives' and the word 'assassin', despite having no syllables and merely two letters in common, somehow sounded very similar to most people, and as such Arik was forced to use more lengthy methods to describe his capabilities to those with noble aims.

Regardless, though, the word stealth would most certainly come up. Possibly followed by invisible. Arik was a master of not being seen, he knew enough to write a book on it, and had used some of the coin received from Hendak to purchase a few additional supplies to assist him in his art.

"Why are you wearing a shirt over your armor, _jaluk_?" Viconia asked sharply after they had split from the rest of the party.

"Because brass studs are shiny and I don't look like an adventurer." He paused in thought. "Well, once I remove my sword and crossbow I won't look like an adventurer. And the throwing knives, I guess. The dagger behind my back is covered by the cloak, though, so I should be able to hold onto that."

"Only four sorts of weapons? You are getting soft, Arik."

"Oh, I've got caltrops and tanglefoot bags and other... little toys in my pack." He grinned. "Alchemists are great at making such things. But the one thing I do need, though, is to be able to see."

Viconia smiled. "That, I can provide. But you do not wish to use the rod your sister has so thoughtfully provided?"

"I'd rather see them before they see us," he said.

She cast the spell, a simple one giving him the breadth of sight that Elves enjoy, and he turned off the rod, bringing back the cloak of darkness that the assassin so enjoyed, and they continued upon their path, only soft footfalls and the occasional murmur of conversation belying their presence.

Arik truly was a master of stealth, though, he knew the four S's and the C by heart: Shadow, stay to them as much as you can. Shine, keep nothing visible that could reflect any ambient light to the eyes of his foes. Silhouette, ensure that you are not between any sources of light and anyone who might wish to see you. Shape, make sure that you seem more like a blob to someone's eye than a recognizably humanoid shape. And Color, wear clothing with colors that match your surroundings.

And so he was careful to smother any sources of light as they went, he covered any worn metal visible with cloth, he wore a cloak to disguise his true shape, and his clothing was deep, dark grey, a color that matches the darkness yet does not catch the eye like pure black can. The effect was that he became a shadow, one no one but the most paranoid of guards would look twice at.

He knew enough to write a book on it, and in fact that was his plan for once he and Kyri and Imoen did not need to fight any longer. Write a book and gain entrance to Candlekeep once again, his home, the place he had lived with his family, whatever family it was, for so long.

In the dark of the sewer, he gave a grim smile. It would be a long time, he knew, before people stopped hunting his sister. And the smile fell, for he seriously doubted that Khalid, Dynaheir and Gorion would be the only ones to die protecting her. And speaking of which...

"What exactly did you say Ky to make her want to hit you?" he asked Viconia, who showed no sign of the bloodied nose the sorceress had given her two days ago, but had seemed to be acting somewhat cautiously around Kyri since then, or at least as cautiously as the caustic drow could be.

"I asked if Khalid's cowardice had finally gotten him killed."

Arik's hand twitched to his sword and a spike of pain echoed his flash of pure anger. _How could she be so gods be damned stupid?_ He calmed himself, moved his hand away from his sword, and only replied once his anger was in perfect control.

"How in the hells could you possibly be so damned stupid? I had half a mind to run you through right now, just hearing you say that, and I was expecting the worse!" He threw his hands up in disgust. "You know the rule, 'Mock the living but honor the dead'! He was like a father to me and Ky, and you think that the best thing you could do once you heard that he was dead was throw one last insult in while you can? I mean, I just got through telling Anomen that you're not a complete idiot, and then you go and say that! Gah!"

"I did not know that he was dead. Kyri had said that he and the witch were gone, and I failed to remember that simpering children often say that the dead are 'gone' instead." At Arik's piercing look, she added, "Kyri is still alive, so I can still mock her, correct?"

He grunted in affirmation, saying, "Fair enough. You're lucky she didn't just immolate you on the spot."

The mocking glare was gone from her face, a look of deep thought replacing it. "I had not seen her use that spell before, nor have I heard of any spell that acts quite like that. Something of her own design?"

Arik nodded. "She keeps complaining about how there's no spell out there that consistently kills someone. The Power Words can be beat by someone with sufficient experience in combat, the Disintegrate spell is nearly useless against a hardy target and then there's everyone who can resist magic.

"A lot of what she said about the spell went over my head," he admitted. "Complicated theories on the nature of magic and the difference between starting a fiery explosion and creating an orb of fire and how that interacts with some creatures natural resistances..." Trailing off, he shook his head. "Honestly, after a while I just stopped trying and just nodded every so often. But, basically, she made her own spell that sets people on fire instantly and the fire burns real hot. Only problem is that it drains her almost all her power, so she really only uses it when it's that or death."

"Or when her brother is about to-"

"I get it, I'm easily beat, ha ha ha, can we move on now?" There was another marking on the wall at the oncoming branch in the sewers, the next symbol in the path. Arik grinned, sure he was on the right path.

"_Wael_, both you and her, no matter how intelligent you seem to think yourselves. She knew there was more fighting to be done and still she wasted her most powerful spell and most of her strength killing someone a mere cantrip could slay, or at least stall long enough for another to deal the killing blow. Just because she-"

All of the sudden, the passageway ahead in the sewers erupted in light. Arik dove to the side, hugging the wall and drawing his sword, although he soon wished he hadn't, as his foot slipped on something he didn't want to think about and brought his knee down on the stone hard.

He stifled a curse at the pain, thankfully limited to point of impact, although that was not making his Drow companion's snickering any less annoying. "This has not been a good day for you, has it?" she said.

Arik shushed her, and listened for anything but only heard the dripping of what he truly hoped was water. "Tymora's been having some fun, I know that much. Do you hear anyone coming?" he said, cursing his damned human ears.

She listened for a moment. "Yes, but is it faint and distant, and the echoes make it indistinct. It could be Kyri's group, for all I know."

"So, what's creating the light?" Not expecting an answer, Arik moved quickly, but carefully enough to avoid slipping again, to the passageway ahead. It was another length of the sewer, going perpendicular to one he had just come from. And, in the middle of the floor was a glowing rock.

Arik looked left and right, and saw that there were other glowing rocks along the path to either direction, as if marking a return path. "Breadcrumbs?" Arik asked aloud.

"It seems so." Viconia looked around. "I do not recognize this part of the sewers. These could not be Kyri's trail."

"Slavers, then. Probably heading back to their lair..." he said, trailing off as an idea formed in his head. He crept over to the nearest breadcrumb, picked it up and pocketed it. As he expected, the light was not strong enough to pierce the soft leather pouch he normally reserved for gemstones. Grinning, he raced over to other nearby breadcrumbs and pocketed them as well, creating an envelope of darkness that he could hide in and that the slavers would have to enter.

Arik walked back to the intersection and pulled his crossbow from his back, readying it for an ambush. Viconia noticed this and crouched next to him and said, "So, what Kyri told you about avoiding a fight-"

"She said something like that?" He shrugged. "Must've missed that, I tend to drift off a bit whenever she's talking. I'm pretty sure she wouldn't say something like that, though," he said, face carefully blank.

She sighed, but without much feeling behind it. "I suppose I should help you, then."

"I didn't know you cared."

She snorted in disgust. "It is too much fun mocking you, _jaluk_. I would hate to have to start honoring you instead." It was a shame it was so dark there, even for elven or magically enhanced eyesight. Arik really wanted to know if she was smiling when she said that.

They sat there, crouched, silent for more than a few minutes. Arik had to admit that, despite how poor she was at hiding in plain sight, Viconia stuck to the shadows like an expert, probably drawing upon Shar to assist her in that. Still, she kept silent, didn't move and her stance nearly mirrored Arik's practiced crouch, with the exception of his crossbow.

But a few minutes in a crouch will strain anyone's muscles, and Arik was about to stand up to rub some feeling back into them when Viconia whispered, "They are almost here."

If he strained himself, Arik could just barely hear the sounds of unfamiliar voices moving in their direction from the left branch. Two male voices, deep and rough, and, as they drew closer, muffled whimpers.

"Two slavers and a new acquisition?" he whispered. Viconia nodded. "I'll shoot one when I know I'll take him down. If you have a good spell to use on the other one memorized, feel free, at least to distract him. But wait for my shot."

For once, her tongue was held, as she merely nodded again and continued to wait. Soon enough, the slavers came into sight, two heavily built men, one with a rather large bundle slung over his shoulder.

"What the hell? Where's those damn stones?" the first one said.

"You didn't forget to drop them again, did you?" said the second, the one with the captured person over his shoulder. From the pitch of the whimpers, Arik guessed it was a she. A young she.

"No! Some rat probably stole them."

"Or maybe you dropped them in some crap. Again."

"I'm saying it's a rat." As talkative as they were being, they were certainly not moving much, just standing in the lit area.

"You just don't want to dig through more crap."

"That's a bad thing now? Besides, do you want to be using magic stones that were covered in some rich snob's shit?" Thrilling as the conversation was, Arik couldn't help but want them to more forward. They were only forty feet away, and while Arik was sure that he could easily hit the one without the captive, he wanted an incapacitating blow to make the fight not fair by any measure.

"Look, you know Haegan's gonna make us pay for it, and if you drag me into it..."

"He'll never even notice! We just hand in the bag and if anyone asks, it was always like that! They'll never know!"

Grunt Two, as Arik had named him, sighed and said "Fine. But if they do figure it out you're paying for it! Those bags aren't cheap."

_Shut up and move already!_ Arik thought. His thighs were starting to cramp up and could almost hear the low growl of anger being barely suppressed by the priestess next to him.

"Well, at least we can still see the rest of the path," said Grunt One. "Uh, after you."

"Hey, I'm the one carrying this bitch! You go first!"

"I just got this bad feeling right now! You'll be fine!"

"If you got a bad feeling, then I sure as hell ain't going first!"

"Look, I'll flip ya for it, okay? Heads, you go first."

"Hell no! Heads _you_ go first!" said Grunt Two. At this point, Arik was seething, and a new throb in his chest was not helping matters.

"Look, it's my coin, okay? I get heads."

"Yeah, exactly! It's your coin, and you're flipping it! I get heads! Besides, the chances are the same either way, what does it matter?"

"If there the same, then you shouldn't mind being tails."

"Fine, just flip it, this bitch is getting heavy."

Arik saw a flash of metal, the copper coin flipping in the air before landing in Grunt One's hand. "Damn it..." Grunt One said under his breath.

"Well?"

"Best two out of three!" He flipped it again, much to the ambushers' disgust. "Oh, come on!" he said after the coin landed.

"That's enough! Now go! Nothin' will happen."

"Fine, but you owe me one..." Grunt One said, _finally_ pocketing the lit breadcrumb and moving forward into the gloom. He moved forward slowly, a moment passing between each step to ensure that he had solid footing and wasn't stepping in anything that might trip him up.

When he was thirty feet away, Arik raised his crossbow, aiming for the throat.

At twenty, Arik released the safety catch and put his finger on the trigger.

At fifteen, he exhaled slowly and quietly, held his breath, and squeezed the trigger on his target's step down.

The trigger made no noise as it released the bolt, the string made only the most inaudible of twangs, and the bolt sailed through the air with hardly a sound belying its path. His aim was true and the bolt landed feather deep in Grunt One's throat, cutting into the windpipe and slicing his jugular, a killing blow. As silent as the shot was, however, the bloody gurgle of the victim and the thump of the body were not subtle at all, and sparked a flurry of action from the other two armed people in the passage.

Grunt Two unceremoniously dropped his burden and drew his sword, trying to hide in the darkness but not well enough to evade elven sight, borrowed or not.

Viconia chanted out her spell and a small bladed hoop no bigger than a plate, the sacred weapon of Shar called a chakram, appeared directly behind Grunt Two and spun into him, easily slicing through his weak armor and deep into his flesh. The doomed grunt spun around and swung wildly at the darkness, doing nothing to prevent the summoned weapon from carving another gash deep into his shoulder. He only had time to grunt in pain, however, as a second crossbow bolt struck him in his back, driving him to the ground and rendering him immobile, bleeding out to a slow, painful death, a death Arik couldn't help but find just.

"An excellent kill, _jaluk_. Only a drow _velg'larn_ could do better," Viconia said, inspecting the body of Grunt One.

"Thanks, I guess," he said, part of him rising at the complement but the rest less than thrilled at the comparison to a drow assassin. Still, he agreed whole-heartedly. Two enemies, both probably good with their weapons, dead before they even knew who was attacking them, without any blood spilled on their side. It'd be a flawless ambush if it weren't for Arik's legs cramping like crazy.

He rubbed his legs, hoping to alleviate some of the cramps, as he stood up. Remembering that they were not alone, however, he turned on the Rod of Light and found the captive, drawing his dagger to free her hands and remove her gag. "Are you alright?"

The girl in question, now that Arik could get a decent look at her, was quite pretty, even in the gloom of the sewers and face wet with tears. An elf, but not of any race he had seen, slim figure and soft skin, fine, mostly clean hands and no visible scars. _Not gutter trash,_ Arik thought, _but not human, so not local nobility._

"Who... who are you?"

"The people you owe your life to, weakling," replied Viconia, tactful as usual.

"V!" Arik yelled back, signaling her to be quiet. Turning back to the girl, he said, "I'm Arik, and my lovely assistant over there is Viconia. We're here to help, don't worry."

"They were slavers! They were going to-" she said in a rush.

"We know, we're hunting them. What's your name?"

"A- Aerie," she said, choking a bit on her tears. "I work at the circus at the Promenade and I was exploring the city and they just grabbed me in the street!"

"Can you remember where you were? How you got here?"

"N- no, they carried me for so long, I have no idea where we are..."

_Crap._ That meant that Arik couldn't, in good conscience, send her on her way alone, even though he and Viconia had their own job to do. Time to appeal to a higher authority. "Aerie, my friend is going to make sure that you're alright, okay? She will be perfectly kind and gentle, isn't that right, V?" he said, throwing a glare at the priestess. "I'm going to contact our leader and tell her what's going on, she'll know what to do." He gave her a warm smile. "Don't worry, we'll help you out of this."

Aerie nodded, and Arik stood up and walked toward Viconia, mouthing "Be nice" to her as he passed, getting rolled eyes in response. Nevertheless, Viconia did as asked, and although there was no cheer coming from the two, at least the crying seemed to stop.

He pulled out the messaging wand and took a long look at it. It was a standard wand, really. A length of wood, delicately carved with intricate runes and topped with a gemstone. He took a close look at the gemstone, though, and found it to be an amethyst, a cheap gem with almost no magical properties to speak of.

He sighed. If it's a wand, it's gotta have a magic gem on top. He really hoped Ky hadn't paid a whole lot for the wand. Still, he found the key point of contact, pressed, and said the magic word. There was no flare of magic, no indication that the spell was active, nothing useful at all. _Well, here goes nothing..._

"Uh, Ky, we found a couple of slavers on their way back from an abduction. Took them down, and we rescued their captive. They were using breadcrumbs to find their way back, though, and they're still active. If you head this way, I'll bet good coin that we can follow those breadcrumbs back to the slaver's' hideout, no more having to worry about which path to take. So, now what? Oh, and right now Viconia's the one comforting her, so you might want to hurry."

He let go of the wand, putting it back into his pack, again with no flashy effect to signal that the message was sent. A minute passed, Arik standing in the dark, damp sewers, with no idea if the wand actually did anything, and he was about to try again when he heard Kyri's voice, saying, "We're on our way, Arik. Light up your path and we'll be there as quick as we can."


	9. 9: Slaver's Death, Part 3

_Edit uploaded 9/11/07: Removed some embarrassing typos._

----------

It took only ten minutes for the others to reach Arik and Viconia, and thankfully in that time Aerie had stopped crying. Mostly. The sight of two dead bodies in the gloomy light was not helping matters, as the girl was clearly not used to seeing dead, and regardless of how many years the elf may have on Arik he could not think of her as anything but a child.

When Kyri did finally arrive, she ran straight to the shaken elf, putting her hand on Aerie's shoulder and speaking softly. Meanwhile, the two men that were lagging slightly behind the sorceress were examining Arik and Viconia's handiwork. And while Arik heard a few whispered commendations from the archer, Anomen's dark look belied his calculations.

Two foes dead, no wounds of any sort on the allies, if a drow and a thief could be called that by a future-knight. The second one, the one furthest from the intersection, had two deep rends in his flesh and a crossbow bolt which entered his back, and he had drawn his sword. The first, however, only one injury, a bolt well placed in his neck, and he had not drawn his sword.

Kyri would not have brought on a total fool, Arik knew. Well, unless that fool could rip a gnoll's head off with his bare hands, Arik amended.

"Well done, Arik," said Anomen bitterly. "You are indeed a capable murderer."

Arik sighed. "That's a bad thing?"

Anomen's eyes narrowed. "Speak truly or not at all."

"It was an ambush of slavers heading back to their nest. _You_ may prefer to fight them fair, a battle to win you honor and glory in great amounts, but I'm fine with just winning. I wouldn't call a sneak attack murder."

"I would. There is no honor in-"

Arik bitterly laughed, shaking his head. "Honor. A pretty word to make you sleep better at night."

Anomen was flexing his hand now, fury evident on his face. Nevertheless, his voice seemed calm, almost deathly calm. "Watch your tongue, thief, or I'll remove it for you. I would expect such words from Viconia, not from you."

Arik blinked. That _had_ come out a lot more... well, drow-ish than he'd intended. The damn pain was starting to get on his nerves now, a constant reminder of everything he had been through, of everything that he had lost. It was almost as bad as the pain actually was. "I'm sorry, Anomen, I did not mean it like that."

"It is true, though," said Viconia, giving a sardonic smile.

Arik gave her a long, blank look. Thankfully, this was a look that Viconia was quite good at deciphering, as she had gotten that particular look a number of times since joining the little band of adventurers. She rolled her eyes, as if to say, _Fine, I'll be quiet, _and sauntered to Kyri, probably to tell her the gory detail of what had occurred.

"How do you stand her?" Anomen asked.

Arik shrugged. "Well, she grows on you, she's smart, her body is just..."

"Be serious."

Arik grinned in resignation at the priest who was slowly becoming more and more annoyed with his antics. "Fine, honest truth? It's nice to know that there's someone around who is willing to tell you off if you're being an idiot."

"True enough, I suppose. But she is not just willing, she takes joy in calling you a fool." Anomen paused, and realized that he was being sidetracked by the thief away from the topic of the ambush. "Enough. Why did you kill them so ignobly?"

Arik's mouth dropped. "They were slavers! They deserved a fair fight?"

"It is not about what they deserve! Good men do not do evil things!"

"Dead is dead, Anomen. Do you think they care how it happened?"

"I think you should care about where the line stands for you. You fight like they do, and yet you call yourself a good man?"

"Of course I'm a good man! I killed two slavers bringing their quarry back to their base! If I fought nobly, they would have used her against us! Think 'Human Shield'!"

"The road to the abyss is paved with good intentions!"

"And the moral high ground, great thing though it is, is not worth dying over!"

They stood there, staring eye to eye, although Arik had to look up a bit in order to meet the Helmite's eyes. That familiar throb was getting worse, Arik knew, and he was staring to lose control.

"Arik, Anomen, shut up!" yelled back Kyri, the eternal peacemaker. As piercing as Anomen's gaze was, Arik observed that basilisks had friendlier eyes than Kyri did when she was using that voice. They broke the staring contest, taking a beat to compose themselves, before each giving the other a look of apology.

"Look, think of it this way. We gave them as much of an honorable fight as they would have given us. Honor among soul-less enemies of society and all," Arik said, unable to resist throwing in a little shot.

"Very well," Anomen said, clearly not convinced, but still trying to be diplomatic. "I suppose I cannot fault you much for dealing with your own kind in your own way. I just wish you would not take the easy path to victory. Bad things lay that way.

Arik grinned at the helmite. "Easy? You've clearly never pulled off an ambush like this before. When you can sit in a crouch for two minutes and make no sound beyond breathing, and even then, very, _very_ quiet breathing, then you can talk about easy paths."

Anomen tried to give a friendly smile, although Arik saw how forced it truly was. "Hard, is it?"

"Only if you mind your legs cramping up halfway through," he said dismissively. "Really, the worst part was waiting for them to come closer. You can never predict how long it takes people to shut up and move, and it's always either too long, and _really _start needing to stretch, or too soon, and you don't have time to line up a good shot."

Anomen hesitated a moment before asking his next question, something that had had clearly been wondering, something that was not exactly an easy question to ask. "How many have you killed since leaving Candlekeep? You seem so... calm about all of this."

"Honest truth? I stopped counting after I passed ten. It seemed a bit morbid for my tastes, especially since I passed ten in only two weeks." He shook his head sadly. "I'd say, forty to fifty, maybe? More if you count undead and animals, and frankly a lot of those were kobolds." Arik smiled a mirthless smile. "We've had an interesting four months since leaving Candlekeep. Only Tymora knows how we've managed to stay alive for so long.

"How about you, Anomen? What's your count at?"

Anomen sighed. "Less than a dozen, also not counting undead or animals."

"Knew it! Green as a, er, green thing? Lettuce?" He shook his head. "Really should think these jokes up ahead of time..."

"I have been training for nearly all my life, Arik. I am no novice to the field of combat, I just have not had as much experience as you have in the fray."

Arik nodded. "Fair enough, you fight like one." At Anomen's surprised glare, Arik explained. "You don't move enough, like someone who's faced off against a lot of dummy targets. Too content to trade blows, and a nimble duelist could get behind your shield simply enough."

Anomen gave Arik a long, measured look, but finding only a helpful smile and no deception at all, he could only say, "You've been fighting for only a few months and I have trained for over ten years."

He shrugged. "I was taught by the best, Anomen. Say what you will about Khalid, but he was a better fighter than anyone I've ever seen. Taught me style, finesse, how to cope. And, well, there is nothing like learning by doing, and fighting people with no sense of honor certainly counts."

"Did Khalid believe in honor as much as you do?" Anomen asked, an unfamiliar sarcastic tone seeping into his voice.

An unusual pang of anger rose from Arik, hearing the flippant tone. A sharp throb accompanied the slight fury, and he took a moment before answering, disinclined to start another shouting match. "Harpers seldom make honor their guide, Anomen. But, yes, to a point. He respected those who would fight to defend others, those who would die to save a friend. But he was the one that taught me about fighting dirty, after all."

"_F-fighting fair largely amounts to a- a list of places where you're not allowed to hit, Arik. Few enemies will give you quarter, a- and none will expect it, so any edge you have you should take. Feel free to feel sorry about it later, when you're still alive."_

"_So, aim low?"_

_Khalid smiled. "W-well, yes, but I was mostly thinking of the legs and feet. A crippled enemy rarely puts up much of a fight. And not everyone you'll fight has that weakness..."_

Arik shook his head, breaking up the memories, both happy and sad. He hadn't even realized he was tearing up until he blinking the tears away. "He once told me that he'd seen too many battlefields to say the word 'honor' without wincing." He paused and gave a lopsided smile. "He did smile when he said that, though. Sorta smile."

Anomen stood there, wanting to find out more about the two people that Arik and Kyri had been rather reluctant to speak of, but he had noticed Arik's eyes, and thought better of it. He could always ask later, after all. "Yoshimo, what is your count?" he eventually said.

Yoshimo started and looked away from his vigil of the two elven ladies. "Hm? I am afraid that I will not answer your question, good sir squire. Let us say that I would rather not advertise my capabilities so... readily."

Anomen's eyes narrowed at the other thief. "It's a simple question."

"Or are you afraid that Anomen's count has you beat?" joked Arik.

Yoshimo smiled, but there was no warmth in it. "Or perhaps it is that my count has you both beat, and I do not wish to embarrass? Bounty hunting, after all, is not the... cleanest of professions."

"Oh, come off it. Tell us, it's only fair."

Yoshimo's eyes narrowed at the fellow thief, though his odd smile did not move and his tone, at least, was perfectly polite. "I shall make things clear for you two, since you seem to not understand. I am here for the villain's bounty and nothing more. Do not ask me about my past. Ever." With that he walked away down the passage toward the trail of lights ahead.

"Polite of him," remarked Arik.

"If he wishes his past be kept private, then perhaps that is for the best, Arik," said Anomen. "Personal histories are not always pleasant things, and, frankly, I doubt it will matter in any case."

Arik looked shocked. "You're not wondering if he broke some laws far away and is on the run from them?"

"I have been tasked with enforcing the laws of Amn, not Kara-Tur. Even Helm recognizes the value of second chances."

"You sure about that?" Arik muttered. At Anomen's glare however, Arik backed off, saying "Alright, fair enough, but Yoshimo's past _is_ my concern if it endangers us. And, when it comes to Kyri, things tend to go wrong a lot faster than normal around her."

"You're that concerned about protecting a woman who can summon flame from her fingertips?"

"Of course! I love her, why wouldn't I?" He paused, realizing exactly what he said, and who he said it to. "Er, I love her like a sister," he amended. "Gods, was that a disaster..."

"What?"

Arik smirked. _Let the helmite ponder that one for a while... _"Long story, wrong place and time to tell it. C'mon, let's poke Ky, see what's holding her up. But, right, one more quick thing. You aren't being chased by any estranged lovers?"

"What kind of question is that? And no!"

"Any evil villains who've sworn blood vengeance against you?"

Anomen sighed. "You're not being serious, are you?"

"Any bounties of significant sum placed on your head?"

"Do you take anything seriously?"

"Any deities, evil or otherwise, bent on destroying you?"

"How does your sister stand you?"

Arik grinned. "I grow on people, I'm smart, and this body..."

"Nevermind."

----------

Meanwhile, not far away from the chatting associates, as Anomen was calling themselves, another one was thinking things over.

_She lied. She is no threat to anyone, unless they happen to attack her first, _he thought to himself.

He looked back to the sorceress, this vile Bhaalspawn, crouching aside a still weeping girl, every ounce of her radiating concern. No, he realized, the girl, Aerie, was not still weeping. A week smile only, but nevertheless Kyri seemed to have settled her down, given this poor, stricken girl, who had been through more in one day than most would in their whole life, some semblance of peace. Truly an incarnation of pure evil.

This was not what he was expecting. If it were her brother, that might be different. He had the look of an assassin about him, and if he were a Bhaalspawn...

But no, his contact was certain of that.

"_You want me to protect someone? That is... not my usual area of expertise."_

_Her skin was pale, closer to pure white than even the locals' light skin tone, she smelled of carrion and death, and, he noticed with certain trepidation, she did not seem to breathe much. Still, she knew the code word, the one given to him by his master, and so those... issues would wait._

"_I'm sure you'll adapt. We put you on... what did you call it?"_

"_Retainer."_

"_-for a reason. She will be going to Spellhold, and we are sure she'll find a way. I may have to help her cause eventually, but she will get there, and you will do whatever it takes to help her there._

"_But-"_

"_Silence. Don't let my tone fool you; these are orders. You will not refuse them. She is the Bhaalspawn and she is dangerous. When our master has her, he will ensure that she and her kind will never fulfill their destiny. If you are worried about your honor, know that you will be saving countless lives." She smiled an evil little smile. "Not that you have much of a choice."_

She lied, but he knew when she said it that she did. Cheat a prophecy? She spoke too surely for such a task to be her true goal.

She lied, and he did nothing. Could do nothing.

_I must see this through. Be detached, keep them at arms length. I can do this, and, perhaps... perhaps I am wrong. A small evil done to save so many, it is worth the risk, is it not? Yes, perhaps I am wrong..._

After all, what is one more lie, even to one's own self, in the face of so many others?

He turned around and, walking back to the group, gave only a fleeting thought to what he should do now, what he, in his heart of hearts, knew he must do.

_It is a shame they forbid me to kill myself,_ he thought bitterly.

----------

Kyri's face spoke of a number of things, most prominently concern but frustration was indeed there as well. "She wants to help," she said, referring to Aerie who was standing just out of earshot, doing her best not to look at the dead, and looted, slavers.

Anomen blinked. "The girl? She wants to help us?"

"I'll point out that she's older than you and Arik combined, Anomen," she said with a touch of annoyance.

"Milady, she could be a hundred years old, but I can't look at her and call her anything but a girl. Is she aware what helping us means?"

"She doesn't seem to care. Personally, I blame Viconia."

"Of course you do." Viconia sighed. "What ethos have I violated today?"

"You told her what we were going to do to the rest of the slavers."

"I was trying to cease her wailing, and I thought that that might help matters."

Kyri stared at her. "Aerie told me what you told her. Did you have to go into so much detail?"

"I was not that descriptive."

"What did she say?" asked Anomen hesitantly. He had heard rumors of what drow did to their enemies. It was seldom pretty.

Kyri shuddered. "You don't want to know. Lets just say that it involved their skin, but not their bodies."

"She did stop crying," said Viconia. "Was that not the goal?"

"Well, yes, but there were better ways to do it!"

"She's never been in a fight, has she?" asked Arik, changing the topic before it got... descriptive.

Kyri seemed very much relieved by the question, and quickly answered. "No. She says that she's a capable cleric and wizard, but there's capable and then there's capable. I'd say she's about as good as we were heading out from Candlekeep."

Arik winced. "That bad? I could barely use a sword back then!"

Kyri smiled, nodding her head. "Okay, as good as I was then."

"Any assistance would be useful, especially those working for free," said Yoshimo, joining the conversation.

Arik shook his head. "She'll slow us down, at best, and at worst she'll be a target. And then, right after the first fight, you know we'll get those fun theological questions."

Kyri nodded in agreement. "Right after her first kill. Just like we went through."

"Except we had the benefit of not being in immediate danger after the fight ended."

Unspoken between the two was the question, "Do we want to take this girl, not really all that different than we were not too long ago, and put her on the first steps on the road to a dark profession?"

----------

"_Nice clothes, going somewhere?" she said, smirking at Arik's black clothes._

_He shrugged. "Not really. All I've got is black and gray or forest green. And, well, I don't feel right wearing something bright, ya know?" He shrugged, and pointed at a small pouch on Kyri's belt. "Those spell components?"_

"_Yep." She nodded at Arik's boot. "Is there a dagger shoved in there?"_

"_Yeah, and one behind my back, covered by the shirt."_

_They stood there in silence. A day ago, they had beaten Sarevok, killed him under Baldur's Gate, ending the threat to Kyri, the Sword Coast and Amn. A day later, where they could finally relax, and only now had they realized exactly how much they'd changed in only a few short months._

"_We're never going to be normal again, are we?" said Kyri sadly._

_He shook his head. "Can't go anywhere without looking around for bounty hunters. Don't feel right without a dagger on me."_

"_You think that's bad? First thing I did today was cast mage armor, just out of habit." She sighed, knowing that her lineage would keep bringing on deadly threats. "And it's just going to get worse, you know..."_

----------

"No," Kyri said, her eyes meeting Arik's in a look of shared understanding. "We can't risk bringing her along, it's much too dangerous," she lied.

"We can send her up to the street easy enough, there's gotta be a sewer entrance around here somewhere," Arik added.

"Or we could light up the path and send her back to the Coronet. Hendak can take care of her."

"Good plan, lets-"

"No," interrupted Viconia, drawing angry looks from the siblings. "We will be outnumbered by at least two to one in there, and that is if Lehtinan's documents were correct. Surprise will only carry us so far, and we cannot afford to ignore any assets." She raised her hand, cutting off Kyri's furious retort, saying "If the thought of her coming to harm frightens you so much that you won't even think to use her, remember this. She is a cleric and a wizard. She can expend her wizardly spells as protections for us, and then user her clerical spells healing us after fights. And, as we have learned, there are children in there, yes?"

At Arik's nod, she continued. "They will need someone to keep an eye on them, someone who's intellectual capacity matches theirs. She would do nicely there. We can use her and still keep her from even seeing a living enemy. Is that all right, oh fearless and glorious leader?" she said, adding a mocking bow at the end of it.

"That's enough, drow," said Anomen. "If Kyri wishes to-"

"No, she's right," Kyri interrupted and sighed. "She's right on all counts. Can't you be a little nicer when you do that?"

Viconia smiled, not unkindly or seriously. "And what would be the point of that?"

Yoshimo coughed and said, "We should go as soon as possible. It has been a great deal of time since the path was lit, and I am afraid that our would-be foes might be wondering what is going wrong."

"They are slavers, not guards, Yoshimo," said Anomen. "Do you really think they would be so concerned about security?"

"In a word? Yes."

----------

It was twenty minutes after the ambush that they finally got going again, far too long for anyone's taste, but they had to tell their new, special friend about what her duties were before setting off. "So, you don't want me to do anything?" asked Aerie once they got underway.

Kyri winced before answering. "Of course not, Aerie. I just want to keep you safe. But you could help us with buffs and healing, right?"

"Buffs?" she said, confused.

"Our shorthand," said Arik. "Enhancement spells that make us fight better." At Aerie's look, he shrugged. "'Buff' is faster to say."

"O-okay. But can't Anomen or Viconia do that?"

"There's a good deal of clerical spells that are more offensive in nature that might come in handy in there," answered Kyri. "And, well, the more healing, the better!"

Aerie was clearly not convinced about the merits of their plan, however, and said so. "I can use arcane magics, and I'll stay away from the enemy, I swear!"

Kyri shook her head. "The first thing a smart enemy does is go after arcane casters."

"We call 'em 'squishies'," added Arik.

"Another of Imoen's ideas?" asked Anomen, clearly amused by the name.

Viconia laughed. "No, that was the addled one's idea. He said that was the sound they made when he hit them. It is a most satisfying sound, indeed."

"It wasn't that funny," moped Kyri, to a chorus of light laughter from Anomen, Aerie and a somewhat reluctant-to-be-amused Yoshimo.

Arik sighed, trying to hide his smile. "The thing is, Aerie, is that an arcane caster represents a whole lot of offensive power with almost no defensive support. Some of the really powerful wizards can turn people to dust, just by pointing at them."

"Disintegrate," Kyri said, dreamily. "I've almost got that spell figured out..."

"And we'll all be eternally terrified once you do," deadpanned Arik. "You, however, have it worse. You heal, you cast spells full of destruction and you look like a little girl wearing a dress." At Aerie's furious stare, he appended, "No offense meant, of course. But anyone with an ounce of sense will go after you, first thing. We don't want that."

Viconia let out a small cough, and Arik added, "Okay, most of us don't want that. But _you_ certainly don't want that."

"What?" Viconia said to the shocked stares. "I find her annoying, and have you fools forgotten who I am?"

"I w-was meaning to ask you," Aerie said, moving a little farther away from Viconia. "Why do you travel with a drow?"

"You know I am drow?" Viconia asked, frighteningly calm.

"It's rather obvious..."

"Kyri, you said-"

"That it would take you acting particularly drow-like or a powerful person of magic to pierce the veil," Kyri interrupted. "Haven't I told you to stop acting like a drow?"

"To be fair, she hasn't exactly been acting like a drow, she's just been really mean," Aerie said. "What veil? And why are you-"

Arik sighed. "For the first, magic. For the second, long story. Really long. The kind that breaks for intermission." _Aaaand I don't want to say that it involves killing a law-man up north, especially around the other enforcer of the law._ "You won't say anything, right?"

She hesitated, no doubt thinking over her answer in light of what she was told and the fact that said drow was only a few steps away from her. "I suppose not... She did save my life, after all, and is fighting the slavers."

"Good. Now, lets be quiet, I think we're almost here."

Indeed, the line of breadcrumbs ran out ahead, at the foot of a case of steps leading up and out of the sewer, only a weak wooden door blocking their path.

"Oh, good, this smell..." started Aerie, but was stopped when Yoshimo motioned for quiet.

"Yes, it does smell down here, we know that, ahahaha," whispered Yoshimo. "Arik, what do you see there, in the gloom of the far corner?"

Arik looked to where Yoshimo was pointing, the magic Viconia had cast still enhancing his eyesight, and saw what Yoshimo caught a glimpse of. "A chair."

"A chair, with no one in it."

Arik nodded. "Trap?"

"Possibly, I will check." With that, the bounty hunter took Kyri's Rod of Light and crept forward, eyes sharp for an odd wire or bit of string or anything that could bring the ceiling down upon him.

"Aerie, do you have any spells that can see what, or who, is on the other side of that door?" asked Arik.

"N-no, only what the layout of the room is."

"What are the two of you thinking, Arik?" asked Kyri.

"Good coin says that there is normally a guard there and he scurried off once he saw the breadcrumbs light up to tell them someone's coming back. And _then_, once it was obvious they returning party wasn't being prompt, he told them again, that there might be enemies coming, especially if they heard us coming. Sounds echo forever down here."

"So, you think that it's a trap."

Arik smiled a grim little smile. "I know there's a trap. Question is, where is it?"

Yoshimo took his time checking the area, but the only things he found was the chair, a discarded bit of rope and a few things that he would rather not have seen and could not decently describe in mixed company. Convinced of the safety of the immediate area, if nothing else, he crept back to the group and whispered, "No traps that I could find. At least," he added, "no traps of a mechanical nature.

"So, what now?" asked Anomen.

_A chair could just be a chair,_ thought Arik. _I've seen stranger, and it wouldn't be the first time I've seen movement that was just shifting light._

He looked at his sister, who was staring back intently, no doubt seeking his advice. He shrugged. "I think we should assume they know we're coming, or at least are prepared for a fight." He paused, his mind hitting a good idea: When it doubt, ask the person who knows what he's doing. "Yoshimo, what do you think?"

Yoshimo hesitated, apparently deep in thought, and soon said, "Were I were in their position, I would have everyone who can use a bow aim at the door, and all loose them at the first person to come through."

"You wouldn't run?"

"To where? Slaves are difficult enough to transport in groups, and _this_ is their escape route."

"He's right," said Kyri. "The door is a perfect choke point."

Anomen shook his head. "Milady, I think you give these slavers far too much credit. Assuming they know we are here, they are still cowardly sorts. From their perspective, the best outcome they could reasonably hope for is for them to escape with their lives, especially since they have no idea as to the number or power of our forces. They could simply walk out the front door and abandon the location and start up again somewhere else."

"A few assumptions there, Anomen," said Arik.

"No more than Yoshimo made."

"He might be right, Arik," said Kyri. "But if he's right, then there's no fighting to be done up there. If Yoshimo's right, we'll be attacked once we open that door. Let's play it safe, shall we?"

Arik nodded. "Fine, and five gold says the first person in there is pegged by a dozen arrows."

Aerie began to cast her spells, and Arik felt the rush of the spell enhancements. To describe it accurately was that it was almost like the opposite of being drunk. You feel stronger, swifter, more capable or even just smarter, depending on the spells being used. And it wasn't just yourself being fooled, you actually _were_ stronger, swifter, more capable or smarter. It was like being drunk, in a sense, but all those drunken beliefs you had were true.

Enough spell enhancements, and it could get really eerie.

By the time that Aerie had finished casting her spells, Arik was looking at the rough, stone walls of the sewers, slick with unimaginable sources of grease, and wondering exactly how far he could run on them.

Arik took his place behind the helmite as they crept up the stairs, at least as quietly as a man in full plate mail can be, sword at the ready and his left hand twitching towards his throwing knives. Every bit of him was screaming "_Trap!_" but he kept calm and waited for Anomen to throw open the door and charge into the room.

Anomen slowly unlatched the door, exhaled slowly, and thrusts open the door. Arik couldn't see past Anomen's large figure, but what was on the other side of that door was quite clear from what followed.

Anomen, very gently and quietly, swore. He pulled the door closed in a rush and stepped back, the stacked _thunk_ sounds coming as possibly a dozen arrows landed in or around the door.

Arik was just about to say something clever when Anomen said, "Quiet, rogue, I will pay you later."


	10. 10: Slaver's Death, Part 4

Haegan was having a real bad day. Yesterday, his business was thriving, the guard was doing their job, or not as the case may be, and he could look forward to a hundred gold sovereigns each week, just for organizing some mindless thugs and making sure that Athkatla's Watch watched other things.

But today, a handful of do-gooders had killed one of his lieutenants, broken up the gladiator ring that brought in so much money, and killed a lot of his men, and he knew that they would follow him back here, sooner or later. He'd told Lehtinan not to write anything down besides the sewer scrawl directions. He'd told him to be careful about whom he lets into the back rooms of the Copper Coronet. He told him to not be a greedy idiot, like so many of the brutes he hired.

He might as well have told the sky to be green, for all the effect that it had.

Of course, once the Coronet fell, almost all of his spellcasters abandoned him. _Why should they risk getting stuck by pointing things just for a little gold? Even though that was their job, the cowards. _

So now all he had was himself and thirteen stupid thugs, good at hurting people, breaking things and not much else, and one apprentice wizard. But him and eleven of those same thugs, all with bows ready to ambush anyone trying to get in, that gave them a chance. And so he sent out the two dumbest ones to find another 'recruit', and he made sure to give them the magical trail markers, perfect for leading someone, anyone, to the sewer entrance. Maybe it was a bit of a risk, but Haegan had gotten sick of those two and their whining. He might as well let their unending mouths be of some use for once. And if things did go wrong, he'd just run away and tell that little wizard to unchain 'plan B'.

"Come on, heroes, don't ya wanna come out an' play?" yelled out one of the thugs at the adventurers cowering behind the door.

"Colin, don't taunt the people with big swords," said another.

The adventurers came, just as Haegan expected. It was such a shame that the human who had opened the door was fast enough to close it before becoming a pincushion.

"Uh, Haeg, why're we just sittin' here?" asked the man on his right. Shawn, was it? Haegan could never remember, and didn't much care either.

Haegan sighed. "Because they can't get in here without one of theirs dyin'. So shut it and keep aiming at the door!"

"I've heard they've got a bitch of a witch with them! She'll kill us all before we have a chance!"

_If she's really that strong, we'd be dead already. And we're as good as dead if we run, given who'd chase us. _What he said was, "Stop listening to dumb rumors. The people I talked to say she's just a git of a magician. She needs line-of-sight in order to kill us, and if we see her, she'll be dead before she can cast a spell."

"What's line of sight?"

Haegan sighed and just ignored him. You get what you pay for, and these idiots didn't even warrant being called half-wits. He wasn't paying for brains, after all: no sense in hiring competition.

The thing is, this wasn't making a lot of sense. His biggest fear about nobly inclined folk breaking up his group were the Harpers, but he knew where they were and paid a street urchin or two to keep an eye on them, and there were no immediate threats that he knew of from that side. Some talking about some threat to all the realm, a prophecy or something, so they weren't caring much about the little things.

The Watch was paid up, paladins and other holy and noble folk didn't come down to the slums, wanting to keep the peace where there actually was some, and there was nobody who would pay for mercenaries that knew about his little operation, unless he'd grabbed a noble recently. And that left adventurers, wannabe heroes, but they shouldn't have heard about his operation so quickly.

Except that the first guy he saw had heavy armor that damn near gleamed, and there was a symbol of Helm around his neck. That said lawman, but the retreat said 'not a damn idiot', which was not something he associated with the law abiding. Then again, given the minds of the criminals around him, he could stand being wrong.

_Run away, far away from these bastards and the bosses and I might just survive. Maybe if these adventurers massacre these idiots, but I slip away, and maybe if I take some gold with me..._

The sound of the door creaking open tore him from his survival plan. It only opened a crack, and with no target to be seen, Haegan's men did not fire, being wise in that respect at least, not wishing to upset their master.

Seemingly seizing on that hesitation, a single crossbow bolt flew from the door and struck Haegan deep in the shoulder. In pain, the slaver loosed his arrow, but with no target the arrow just hit wood, as did a number of other arrows fired in retaliation, although none hit naught but the walls and door.

Haegan collapsed to his knees. He'd been hit before, more than once in fact. Part of the reason why he'd got this job was that he could keep fighting even with an arrow in his gut, but this time, something had sapped everything out of him. _Poison...?_

He was dimly aware of a small cloud of smoke appearing by the door, it seemed strange that it came without any of the traditional words of power. _Huh_, he thought, very aware of his surroundings despite now being not able to move at all, _...there's some words of power. What's she casting?_

A loud roar answered his unspoken query. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a lion spring into being preceded by a flash of light.

_This is how it ends, ain't it? Et by a damn lion when I can't even move._

His men, idiots that they were, all started to shoot their arrows at the magical beast, their arrows barely breaching the skin of the monster that was now tearing into one of their number. They forgot entirely about the other adventurers, and all save for Aerie and Kyri moved into the room and engaged the thugs that were still standing.

It was brutal and one sided. The slavers may have wished for quarter, but the party gave none. Aside from the lion, borrowed from the Celestial planes, quite resistant to mundane weapons and unwilling to suffer such villains to live, the helmite, priestess, bounty hunter and assassin all tore into the enemy, all fighting for their own reasons but all, somehow, on the same side.

It was also fast. These were not hardened fighters, these vile slavers. They were muscle with no brains, capable with a bow or sword but not used to their foes actually putting up a fight. They thought they could win at first, encouraged by their now disabled leader. By the time they thought to run, it was too late for that. Eleven stood, eleven fell, and all that was left was the leader, now unconscious from the poison flowing freely through his veins.

"Arik, what did you use on him?" asked Anomen, binding Haegan's hands and feet.

_Royalscar, such a lovely paralytic poison..._ Arik thought. What he actually said to the helmite, what with the law not smiling upon poisons for the most part, was, "You're better off not knowing. He'll be fine in a few hours." He paused. "Well, except for the bolt."

Aerie and Kyri entered the room, now that it was safe. But while one of the elves looked resigned at the carnage, and maybe a little excited by it, the other stared in horror, the color fading from her face. "Oh-h my. Are they all..." Aerie began, her voice fading as she saw the lion, fur matted with blood and more than a few arrows sticking out of it.

"No, _yibin darthiir_, the leader was subdued instead, but the rest are quite dead. And do not let the little cat worry you," Viconia said, to the sound of the lion's roar. "He is quite bound to the will of our _ventash'ma_."

Kyri sighed. "It's more complicated than that, Viconia." She nodded to her summon, thanking it, and the lion returned to its home, fading away with a flash of light.

"Kyri, perhaps we could wake their leader and find out how many more of his allies there are here?" asked Yoshimo. "We were fortunate to escape this ambush so easily."

"Uh, no, the, uh, effect lasts for a few hours," said Arik, grimacing at one of the lion's victims. "Ugh, who knew there was so much blood in people?"

Viconia smirked. "I do. In fact, if you cut in the right places, you can get a great deal more blood from them."

"I... I did not need to know that," said Aerie.

Viconia smiled wickedly, carefully avoiding looking at her. "In fact, with enough healing, one could get unlimited blood from a single body. It's a very handy way to-"

Aerie now looked, somehow, even more pale than before. "Please stop."

Viconia glared sharply at her. "I did not interrupt you. The point is-"

"Stop, now, before I have to stop you myself," said Anomen. He turned to the, now ghostly in complextion, elf, saying in a kind voice, "It is alright, milady. She does that only because she knows it upsets you. Why I have not put an end to her evil, I do not know..."

"So," Arik said to his sister, while digging through Haegan's possessions, "the helmite's getting philosophical about Viconia."

She scoffed, and said, "Why's he calling Aerie 'm'lady'? He was calling me m'lady!" From her tone, Arik figured that she was joking. Mostly.

Arik muttered a short curse, something about his sister and her choice in suitors, and said, "Well, before Aerie came along, the only other lady around was Viconia. If you can call her a lady."

"I know you don't want her to be one," she said, smiling.

He sighed. "The point is, Ky, maybe that's just his preferred honorific. It's like how Viconia uses '_jaluk_', it doesn't actually mean anything." At Kyri's blank stare, he added, "Okay, so maybe she is just calling me a worthless male. I've seen stranger, though."

"Good idea with that smokestick, by the way. It's amazing how easy it is to cast a spell when you aren't doing a pincushion impression."

"Thanks. It's always nice to have some non-magical concealment."

"Do I want to know how much of this was actually purchased? That poison alone..."

"I could ask you the same thing. Poison is expensive, true, but alchemical items are pretty cheap on the whole. Magic items, though..."

She sighed. "Even with what we didn't pay for, we've got only two thousand gold pieces. Imoen is in trouble and we need to raise the money quickly."

Arik laughed. "Since when did 'two thousand gold' get prefaced by 'only'? Imoen is going to go crazy when she finds out how much we paid to find her."

Kyri smiled. "Remember, I'm the innocent, naïve sorceress. You're the hardened thief. Who's she going to have more of a problem with?" she said, punctuating it at the end with a stifled yawn.

At that, Arik took a good, long look at his sister, noting the familiar cues as to how she was feeling. She was flexing her right hand, as though trying to work out some impulse. She stared at the door as though fixated on it, supposedly on guard from anyone trying to ambush the group again, but, more notably, not even looking in the direction of the messy fight that had just occurred. And she seemed to be taking slow, deep breaths, not unlike those used in meditation.

"So, how have you been dreaming?"

She closed her eyes, no doubt biting back a curse. "Did Viconia tell you?"

He shook his head. "No, why would she? Honestly, I think she's a mite scared of you."

"How did you know, then?"

Arik scoffed. "I ain't gonna tell you your tells so you can think of new ways to keep me in the dark. I'm your brother, Ky-"

"No, you're not!" she nearly yelled, thankfully drawing no one's attention. "Not really. Not in the way that counts here. You can't understand what I'm-"

"Maybe I can, Ky, if you'll let me try for once!"

She glared at him for a moment, before continuing, "You can't understand what I'm going through, and I don't want you to. These aren't just dreams, they're more real than that. Dreams don't wake you up in the middle of the night sucking blood from your finger."

"Well, there was this one-"

"Arik!" Kyri said, furious.

He raised his hands in mock defense, his attempt at breaking the mood failing. "Sorry, reflex. Look, maybe you could talk to V about this, she might have bit more experience dealing with evil deities. But, why are you so tired? If it's just the normal, for you at least, kind of nightmare, then shouldn't you be able to sleep-"

"Trance," she corrected.

Arik shrugged. "Same thing, just shorter and more refined, but you elves gotta keep bringing it up, huh?" At her blank stare, he went on. "Anyway, shouldn't you trance just fine if the nightmares are the usual ones? You seem a whole lot more tired than I'm used to seeing you."

She hesitated, clearly not wanting to delve into what had been keeping her up lately. "Irenicus and Imoen are in them, they're telling me to accept my power, become what Sarevok was. I'm used to hearing that, but not from Im..."

Arik nodded, doing his best not to react to the spike of pain that came from her words. "And the blood in here isn't helping, is it?"

She let out a mirthless laugh, risking a glance back at the bloody battlefield. "No, not really. It's making me hungry, actually." She paused, her eyes darting back to the door. "Did you hear that?"

He took a moment to listen, trying to hear whatever Kyri had heard over the others talking in the room. "Maybe, if it's footsteps." Kyri nodded, taking a step back from the door.

They were getting louder, something big and heavy and not exactly trying to be stealthy, coming towards the door. Arik and Kyri waved to the others, alerting them to readiness just as the door, with a loud crash, was reduced to splinters. The moment Arik saw green, he remembered what Hendak had said earlier that day, before the group had rested up for this attack.

"_A dozen fighters and a couple wizards are there at all times, and a half-dozen others who abduct people. And a few trolls, if you can believe that."_

It was a massive thing, nearly double Arik's size with arms that nearly reached the ground and a face delightfully adorned with a pair of massive tusks, no doubt quite capable of tearing Arik's flesh from his bones. And, at the front of the group, were the lightly armored rogue and unarmored spellcaster.

_CrapcrapcrapcrapcrapcrapCRAP_, Arik thought in a panic while, in one motion, drawing his sword and throwing a small glass vial pulled from his belt.

One of the things that Arik loved about cities was that you could buy anything there, at almost any time in the day. Usually, this meant less than legal things such as poisons or stolen goods sold at steep discounts, but Arik also had a love of the alchemist's shop. The smokesticks he had used earlier, bags of sticky goo that hampered movement, little iron rods that erupted in a bright light when struck, cheap and effective and legally bought from more than a dozen vendors in a city the size of Athkatla.

What he threw was something that Arik had the presence of mind to purchase after he woke up, also purchased from a very friendly and fair alchemist. A strange substance that, for some reason that Arik didn't really care all that much about, turned into a sort of sticky flame that burned cheerfully on anything for maybe twenty seconds after being exposed to air. Alchemist's fire, they called it.

He wasn't that great at throwing things with his left hand, but the vial sailed true and smashed itself on the troll's face, and the substance within reliably blossomed into flame, momentarily blinding the troll and creating a nauseatingly appetizing smell of seared flesh.

The troll roared in pain, shaking its head trying to dislodge the flames, giving Kyri an excellent chance to show her impression of a scared little girl, running quickly away from the massive beast. Arik kept his distance from it, staying between the troll and his sister, waiting for Anomen to arrive with his big, hard shield.

"Well?" Anomen asked on arrival, stopping beside the rogue. Ky was busy giving orders to the rest of the party behind them, and so Arik gave the helmite the rundown of their giant killing strategy.

"Let it come to us, flank it, go for the legs, let Ky bring the heavy."

"Have you've done this before?"

"Not against trolls."

"Wonderful."

The reprieve ended as the flames finally died out, and although Viconia's summoned chakram and Yoshimo's arrows had opened some wounds, the troll's healing powers were already closing those small wounds, though the burns on its face remained, just as Elminster's Ecologies has said they would.

With a mighty roar, the troll charged at Arik, seeking revenge with a massive swing at his head. Arik rolled to the side, easily avoiding the predictable attack. It swung again and Arik jumped back, slamming his back into the wall. With no room to maneuver, it was fortunate that Anomen stepped in when he did, delivering a powerful slash to the troll's legs, breaking the flesh though unable to damage the muscle underneath.

The troll turned and gave Anomen a massive backhand to his shield, knocking the warrior-priest back a few steps and denting the solid piece of steel. Arik leapt forward, trying to cut the troll's legs form under it, but finding his thin blade ineffective for the task, cutting shallowly and sticking in the tough flesh. He had to abandon his blade as the troll turned back to him, trying to knock Arik's head off with another swing of its massive arms, missing as Arik leapt back again.

Anomen got its attention again, his broadsword much better suited to rending into flesh. He cut deep into the troll's wounded leg, temporarily immobilizing one of its mighty legs. At that same moment, Kryi finally finished casting her spell, a massive stream of flame that would have incinerated the troll's head had the beast not collapsed from the wound Anomen had just delivered moments before. As it was, it sailed over its head and only avoided setting the building aflame thanks to Kyri quickly canceling of the spell.

"Center of mass! Center of mass!" Arik yelled, pulling another vial of alchemist's fire from the pouch on his belt and throwing it at the wounded leg, searing the flesh and hopefully putting a hold on the troll's healing.

"I know! I know!" replied Kyri, starting her casting again, a different spell Arik could tell.

The troll roared in agony from his burning leg, making a clumsy swing towards Arik, who easily jumped out of the way for the fourth time. There was no finesse, no style to its attacks now, although to be fair there wasn't a whole lot before. The bigger the creature, the more it relies upon massive leg muscles to move, and the fire had cauterized the wound, preventing the cut hamstring from healing. That was why you went for the legs on something that much bigger than you, the fact that it's the only thing you can actually hit totally irrelevant. The beast was effectively immobile now, totally harmless as long as you stayed out of its reach.

Unless the troll was somewhat clever for its kind and used one of its good arms as an improvised leg, grabbing onto the ground and literally throwing itself at its target. This wouldn't be a problem for Arik, as he could easily dodge to the side, but apparently the troll had gotten tired of swiping at someone it couldn't hit, and went for the slow one in the heavy armor.

It landed on Anomen with a thud, knocking him to the ground, Anomen's sword clattering away from his hand. The summoned chakrams, three in total now, were still slicing weakly into the troll's side and Yoshimo was hardly bothering the beast with his arrows, most missing as the bounty hunter seemed to be aiming for the troll's eyes. Anomen, meanwhile, had abandoned offense as a reliable option and was doing his best to avoid the troll's mouth, using his armored forearm to stay the beast's mouth, but trolls could bite through bone, so that wouldn't last for long. And Kyri had stopped casting her spell with a low curse, no doubt switching from a spell that would have splashed some heavy fire onto Anomen again.

And so Arik was about to do something incredibly stupid, like jump on the troll's back and drive his spare weapon into its back, when he heard second voice shouting words of power, rushing through a spell and a small lance of flame tore into the troll's neck, sending it reeling in pain and gasping for breath.

_Oh, no..._ Arik thought, risking a glance back at the spellcasters, and he saw what he was afraid of: Aerie's hands were extended in the familiar gesture of the aiming of a scorching ray, a simple little fire spell that was one of Kyri's favorites. Moments later, a significantly more powerful scorching ray erupted from Kyri's fingertips, tearing through the troll's neck completely and effectively killing it.

Viconia walked over to Anomen, perhaps a bit slower than she could have, and began to heal his copiously bleeding forearm. Yoshimo quickly moved to the troll's corpse, drawing his katana and working at decapitating the troll, ensuring the party's victory, and Arik retrieved his weapon from where it dropped, checking it over to make sure the blade was still sharp and straight.

Aerie, however, just stood there, staring at the now definitely dead troll. "I... I..."

Kyri walked over to her and put her hand on the technically older elf's shoulder. "Yeah."

"B-but if I didn't, Anomen w-would have..." she stuttered, her eyes moist with tears.

"Yeah."

"There's so little b-blood..."

Kyri blinked, not expecting that statement. While the room was still a mess from the previous fight, the troll had indeed not shed much blood, given the number of wounds it sustained. "It's the regeneration," she said, the words coming as though from far away. "They heal so fast that the wounds stop bleeding almost instantly. But wounds caused by fire take much longer to heal, about as long as it takes for our wounds to heal on their own."

"You actually know that..." Aerie said softly, mournfully.

Kyri blinked again. "Well, it's not from experience. Elminster's Ecologies spell that out pretty clearly." She bit back a curse, realizing what she was saying, and decided to try to make it easier for the girl. "Look, Aerie, it was just a monster-"

"No!" Aerie shouted, whirling on the sorceress with eyes red from tears and face red with sudden fury. "He wasn't just a monster! He was a living thing and I killed him!"

"Technically, I killed-"

"Shut up! He couldn't breathe after I hit him! He was dying and then you didn't even give him a chance to surrender! He was running away!"

"He was eating Anomen!"

"And you!" Aerie said, whirling upon a surprised Arik. "You attacked him! He didn't attack us until you threw that potion at him!"

Arik gave her a shocked look, not expecting such anger from the one he kept thinking of as a little girl. "Hey! A nine foot monster crashes through the door, roaring only the gods know what in Giant, a monster who's kind are known for eating people by the way, and I'm hardly ten feet away! You'd do the same!"

"No, I wouldn't! You won't even think of him as a 'he'! And how do you know that he ate people?"

"Milady," Anomen said weakly, "it, _he_ was an evil beast, and a troll's appetite is well documented."

"Besides," Viconia said, between castings, "why do you think it was here? Why would slavers keep a troll unless they needed to easily dispose of those who would not submit?"

Arik blanched at the thought, as did everyone else in the group not of divine or drow heritage, but he had to admit that it made sense. You couldn't just dump a body anywhere and not have people start to get suspicious. Even dirty guards had some depths they wouldn't sink to, and covering up murders certainly wasn't one of them. _But still, ew._

Aerie shook her head, seemingly dislodging the unpleasant imagery. "That's... that's not the point! You didn't know that! I thought that she was joking when she said what you would do to these slavers, but only that drow would have thought of why they would have a troll here!"

"These slavers clearly thought of it first."

"Stop digging, V," Arik said.

Aerie turned on the last member of the group, her eyes now streaming tears. "And you, Yoshimo! You desecrated his body! He was dead and you just went and cut off his head!"

Ignoring the frantic 'don't talk about your job' hand signals Arik was giving, Yoshimo said, "Trolls regenerate quite quickly, I had to be sure. In any case, Athkatla has a standing bounty of one hundred gold per troll head."

Her mouth dropped in shock. "You... you're all doing this for the money, aren't you?"

"Yes!" Kyri said, losing her temper at being called a soulless mercenary. "That's it, we're fighting slavers just for coin! Rescuing you only for the money! Let's just ignore how much danger we've been in, or that Anomen's almost died twice today! It's all for money, even though there's safer jobs out there that actually pay up front!"

"Ky..." Arik said, trying to get her to calm down. He'd seen his sister when she was really angry, and it wasn't a pretty sight. Tended to involve uncontrolled fire.

She took a beat to steady herself, and continued. "We need a lot of gold in order to save our sister, Aerie. She's stuck in some wizard's prison and we can't get to her without the gold. Of the twenty thousand we need, we have, maybe, two. And," she said, glancing nervously at Arik, "I don't think she's safe there."

_The dreams, that's what she's saying. That's why she's so beat. She's blaming herself for Imoen's capture, and she's getting reminded every night. And she's worried every second about what's happening to Imoen there._

Aloud, Arik said, "It's not about the fight for us, not even for Viconia. It's not about gold, no matter what Yoshimo might say." He gave both of them a quick glare, telling them to not contradict him now. "Five months ago, I was a little pick-pocket in a castle full of monks and books, never harmed a soul. Beshaba and Tymora have had their fun with me and Ky since then, but the one thing that we've always had was each other and Imoen. We need to get her back, we're going to get her back, no matter who stands in our way."

"No matter what you have to do?" asked Aerie, sadly.

He glanced at Kyri, who clearly had also not thought much about what she would not do for Imoen. "I don't know. There are limits, no doubt, and we haven't exactly hit them in the last two days, so I can't say for certain. But a little excessive force against slavers and a, literally, bloodthirsty monster ain't a major problem for me."

"I hope it stays that way for you, I really do." She sighed, wiping her face with her sleeve. "I was thinking about asking to help you after this. The idea of doing so much good... But your first instinct was to attack the troll, Arik, and none of you blinked an eye at it. I... I can't be around that. "

She drew herself up and walked towards the door. "If there truly are children here, they must be terribly frightened by now. We should get them out of here quickly."

Yoshimo and Anomen moved with her, instinct at protecting the elf overriding any shock they had at her words, Viconia trailing behind, no doubt sensing a chance to level a few more shots at Aerie before she left. Meanwhile, though, the siblings just stood there, in abject shock at the elven woman's words.

"Did that just happen?" asked Kryi.

"Seems like," Arik replied.

"I did not see that coming."

"Strange to think that we were concerned about her getting philosophical about killing."

She sighed. "She was, just not about herself and killing. Five gold says she'll forgive us before the night is over."

"No bet. Think she's right?"

Kyri hesitated. "No, that troll would have attacked us, and you bought us enough time to get into a defensive position."

"You're lying."

"You do it to me all the time, figured it was my turn. And it isn't all a lie."

Arik snorted and changed the topic. "Imoen's capture ain't your fault, Ky."

"You're lying."

"No, I ain't. It was the Cowled Wizards and Irenicus, not you or me who did it."

She shook her head. "She wouldn't have been in that dungeon if it weren't for me."

"Maybe, but none of us would have if Irenicus hadn't captured us in the first place."

Kyri paused and looked at her brother oddly. "It doesn't bother you that he got us so easily, or that you didn't warn Imoen about spellcasting in time?"

Arik tried not to show it, but he knew that his eyes twitched a touch at the sharp pain in his chest. "Deep repression is what gives me my fighting edge," he joked. The weak smile Kyri gave him was clearly out of courtesy, and so Arik went on. "A little. But if I had caught the poisoned food that innkeeper gave us, Irenicus might've been a little less subtle about it next time.

"As for the latter? It used to, but I can't do anything about it now. I stopped you from casting, so it could've been a lot worse. Nothing we can do now but move forward."

She hesitated. "You are checking our food now, right?"

"Shut up. What should we do with him?" he said, pointing to the bound and unconscious slavemaster. "He'll be out for a few more hours still."

She shrugged. "Leave him, I guess. The strong one went off following Aerie."

"At least she won't compete for Anomen's eyes now."

"Shut up."

----------

_Just a quick note here, at the end of my 10__th__ chapter. Thank you to everyone who's reviewed thus far, and, please, keep reviewing! Not only does that give me the kind of encouragement it takes to keep writing, I'm also not just doing this for shits and giggles. Please, tell me if you don't like something here, I want to learn where the flaws in my writing are!_

_Keep reading, keep reviewing (please!), and I'll keep writing!_


	11. 11: Luck, Knowledge, Duty, Darkness

"_Arik?"_

_That was Imoen. He didn't respond._

_A door opened. Arik didn't have a key to the room, just picked the first open one he could find. "It's me, Imoen," she said. "You okay?"_

_Arik said nothing. Just kept staring at the ceiling, lying on the bed._

_She walked over to the bed and poked him in the arm. "Hey, dummy, I asked ya a question."_

_Arik's mind flashed back to the scene that sent him up here, the blood on his sword, the blood pouring out of the man's back._

_She sighed and sat down on the chair. "I, uh, brought your sword?"  
_

_He hadn't remembered dropping it. A day ago, he would've been shocked that he could so easily forget about his father's blade._

"_Okay, Kyri stripped naked and started dancing on the tables downstairs?"_

_Arik blinked a few times. "What?"_

"_Hah, figure'd that get a rise outa ya."_

"_You're strange."  
_

"_Same as I was yesterday."_

_He knew what his sister was trying to do, get him talking about simple, frivolous things, and, oh, how much did he want to. He just couldn't. "That guy down there-"_

"_Arik, he was trying to kill me and Kyri, wha' else could ya have done?"_

"_I... I don't know. Something, anything, but I killed him instead. Didn't even think about it."_

"_And if Ky had gotten hurt, would you still be moping up here? Or me?"_

_He sighed, wiping away the tears. "I know it don't make sense, I just..."_

_Imoen nodded. "Fine, I'll leave you alone. Remember, you saved us, Arik. I mean, this is just me, but you weren't trying to kill him, right? You were trying to save us. That's gotta be something." She stood up, leaving the sword on the table. "Kyri found Khalid and Jahiera downstairs, and it looks like we'll be spending the night before figuring out what to do next. Something about this mine down south, I dunno."_

_He smiled weakly, finally looking at her. "I thought she was dancing on tables naked?" He didn't feel like joking, but he needed Imoen to know he'd be okay, eventually, and maybe convince himself of that fact._

"_Hey, maybe I can convince her to start if you come down soon!"_

----------

"Rogue!"

Anomen's voice broke Arik out of his reverie. The lock on the trunk in the slaver's hideout had been vexing him greatly, but he wasn't one to daydream in places where enemies had been not too long ago.

Still, Arik couldn't let the helmite know that, so he replied glibly, "Sorry? I don't know anyone called 'rogue', Anomen."

"Funny, Arik, but I can tell when someone is daydreaming. Will you please keep working on that lock, I have no desire to be here for much longer."

Arik turned from the trunk, saying, "Really? Me, I could just stay here all day. It's a lovely place, really, once you get past the smell of blood. Or is it that you will be leaving our company along with Aerie?"

Anomen's eyes narrowed at the thief. "I have not decided, yet. I fear she may be right, we did not attempt to parlay with our foes here."

"Oh, by the whole damn pantheon! The slavers wouldn't parlay, they started shooting first! And, unless you've suddenly learned the Giant tongue, then you'd have been hard pressed to negotiate with the troll!"

Anomen went on, ignoring Arik's outburst. "Also, I do not think that I should be traveling with one who breaks laws so readily."

"What law was this?" Arik asked, barely restraining himself from asking which law Anomen had noticed him breaking. Somehow he figured that would not win him any points with the helmite.

"You poisoned the head slaver, Arik. Even you, new to the city as you are, must know that poisons are illegal to own or use. I have been tasked to enforce the laws-"

"And I didn't break any," Arik interrupted, sighing. "Not all poisons are illegal in Athkatla and her environs, only ones that are potentially lethal. I was very careful to buy the legal variety." At Anomen's confused look, he continued. "The poison I used is called Royalscar. It's a powerful paralytic, totally paralyzing someone within a few seconds and knocking them unconscious about a minute later. Can't kill someone with unconsciousness, unless they're walking a tightrope or something.

"It's legal mainly because it's so damn useful. It's extremely potent and can easily be delivered on weapons, and so it's quite useful in taking down someone who doesn't want to go quietly. Something the Cowled Wizards thought of, if you can believe it. Casters aren't that great at overcoming poisons." He shrugged. "I didn't tell you mainly because I didn't want a moral debate about the ethics of using poisons."

Anomen blinked, clearly having trouble taking in the explanation offered by the self-described criminal. "I am to believe that you know so much about Athkatla's laws?"

"Well, my knowledge is rather specialized. 'sides, I grew up in Candlekeep, remember? Plenty of time to learn how to cheat legally when you've got books dedicated to the subject, especially when it comes to the City of Coin." He turned back to the lock, trying again with his picks to open the damn thing. "How'd you know I poisoned that guy, anyway?"

Anomen hesitated. "Besides the obvious evidence before me? Viconia told me."

Arik blinked. "What?"

"I'm as confused as you are," he said, chuckling.

"I'm gonna have to have a chat with her. With very pointed words. At least she's a good healer," he said, pointing at Anomen's arm. The bracer was still stained red, and sported a pair of gaping holes, but at least nothing was dripping through.

Anomen shook his head. "I do not understand her. I had thought she was lying to me, as I could not believe you to be as stupid as to break the law in front of me."

"General rule I have is to not break laws in front of law-men."

He paused. "Perhaps you could avoid breaking laws entirely?"

Arik grinned. "It's always a possibility."

"You are fortunate I am an understanding man."

_More like I'm fortunate you seem to be very much attracted to my sister. _Arik went back to work on the lock and, after a few more careful pokes and prods, the lock snapped open. "Finally. Let's see what we- oh," he said, looking into the trunk. "Oh, wow."

"Has your avarice overcome your senses?" Anomen asked, walking over to where the rogue was crouched, gawking at what he was seeing. "Odd, I would not think three gemstones would be enough to render you speechless."

Arik gingerly picked up one of the gems, a swirling prismatic beauty of a rock. "Anomen, those are rogue stones. For all three, I could probably get a bit under five thousand gold pieces."

"Yes, impressive, I am sure that would astound many other thieves and such."

"Well, sorry for not coming from money."

"What do you mean?"

"Delryn is a noble family here in Athkatla, right? You've got an estate north of the river, not far from what must be the largest piece of green in the city, outside of the graveyard at least." At Anomen's surprised look, Arik shrugged. "People talk, and a couple silver is worth a lot to some folk, especially those who don't have much to do besides look around."

"Beggars?"

"Beggars, thieves, urchins, harlots, and then there's the loyal Watch, full of eager young men who would never even consider taking a bribe, nope, not at all."

Anomen sighed. "Very well, your point is made. Is there anything else in there?"

Arik pocketed the gems and leafed through some of the papers that had been placed beneath them. Inventory reports, payroll lists, performance evaluations, even a few letters, ciphered with what couldn't be that hard of a cipher. He shook his head, snickering to himself. "Paperwork for slavers. It looks almost innocuous, if you don't examine it closely."

"Could this mean they are part of a larger group within Athkatla?" Anomen asked, his voice almost offended that more of the villains could exist in the paragon of justice that is Athkatla.

Arik shrugged. "Maybe. Or maybe this Haegan fellow just likes keeping detailed notes. Hell, my father was pretty painstakingly careful about keeping paperwork, and he didn't work for anyone, really. Right now, all this tells us is that Haegan kept paperwork. And it's ciphered, so we can't figure it out quite yet."

Arik stood up, the parchment held gingerly in his hands. "We should show this to Ky. She loves her puzzles," he said, grinning.

He had almost left the room when Anomen blurted out, "What were you thinking about?"

"What?"

Anomen paused, clearly regretting saying anything in the first place. "When I came in, you were clearly lost in thought. What were you thinking about?"

Arik almost lied at this, just on instinct. He loved the privacy of his head, how no one could really know what was going on in there. And sharing vulnerable moments with someone who had repeatedly voiced their belief in Arik's unending wickedness was not high on his list of things to do.

Still, Arik's mind flashed back to the battle hardly twenty minutes before. His back had been, all puns aside, against the wall, and Anomen had stepped forth without hesitating. Anomen had sought Arik's advice as to how to fight the troll, regardless of how little Anomen thought of the rogue's combat abilities. And, well, if you couldn't trust a Helmite, who could you trust?

Anomen noted the rogue's hesitation, and said, "If you do not wish to say, then-"

"No, Anomen. It was more a memory than a real thought. It was from right after my first kill."

Anomen nodded. "Who?"

"No idea. Oh, don't look at me like that. I don't know his name, that's all. He was a bounty hunter in the Friendly Arms Inn, and not the fluffy kind like Yoshimo. I'd gone ahead of Ky and Im, and he attacked them, slinging spells about. I came back and stabbed him in the back." He laughed bitterly, almost a sob really. "All those books on combat and anatomy, or where to stick people, and none of them ever mentioned how much they bleed when you hit 'em right.

"Well, after desecrating his body with my last meal, I just ran. Found an empty room in the inn and cried my eyes out, after throwing off anything with a trace of blood on it, anyway. Didn't check on Im, didn't check on Ky, didn't even recover my father's old sword. Just threw up and ran and cried."

Anomen nodded. "The first time is never easy. At least I had the Order and my lord Helm to help me after I slew my first bandit. Just some scum who attacked a merchant convoy I was escorting. Still, were it not for the paladins who were with me, I do not know what I would have done. It was not easy seeing that man's dead body."

"I might not've had a large order of holy folk, but I had Imoen. She found me and talked to me, even managed to make me smile a bit. She's always good at that, you'd probably like her actually." He paused, play-acting deep thought. "Well, up until she showed how much of a vile thief she is."

Anomen sighed. "I put up with you, don't I? And Yoshimo. And, your sister, for that matter. Does she really think me a fool?"

Arik blinked. "I don't follow."

"Those magical items. The rods of light and message, the breadcrumbs, all of it? Am I to believe that she managed to purchase them all with what gold Hendak gave us earlier?"

Arik bit back a curse. "It's be easier if you did, no doubt." At Anomen's glare, Arik relented. "We're on a rather time-sensitive mission, in case you hadn't noticed, and despite Athkatla's sterling reputation, twenty thousand gold is not that easy to find. If you've known, why haven't you said anything yet?"

Anomen looked away from the rogue and sighed. "I do not know. Your sister's quest is a noble one, and hearing you two speak about Imoen I cannot help but wish to help her as well. But part of me wonders, are you lying to me? The drow, the stealing, that your mission involves the acquisition of a great deal of money, this cannot help but make me suspicious of you. All I have to go on, from outside sources at least, is from Baldur's Gate, and I do not even know why your sister acted as she did, or why she had so many bounty hunters after her."

"The why of the bounty hunters is a story for another time."

Anomen snorted. "Ah, yes, the 'long story'."

"Well, it is," Arik said, rolling his eyes. "But, more importantly, it's complicated and the kind of thing that we don't tell a lot of people about. As best I know, only seven people know the full story, me, Kyri, Imoen, Viconia, our two other companions from the Gate, and Irenicus."

"Viconia knows?" Anomen asked, incredulously.

"Part of the long story. We'll tell you when you need to know. But," Arik said, knowing that he was going to regret saying this very quickly, "how would it be if I promised to pay back any merchants we stole from once we've got coin to spare?"

Anomen gave Arik a long glare. Arik couldn't quite be sure of what the helmite was thinking, but he had a feeling it was regarding the trustworthiness of thieves. "Look," Arik said, "good thieves keep their word to people they work with. All we've got to go on is our word, and if it gets known that I cheat my friends, I won't have many friends left, now will I? Can't get much work with a reputation as a cheat."

Anomen kept giving Arik that same glare.

"Would it help if I swore on Tymora's name?" Arik said, grinning.

Anomen blinked, but kept staring, thinking over his words carefully. "The goddess of good fortune. Do you worship Tymora?" he finally said.

"Don't worship any gods, really, but Tymora's the closest I come."

"Let me guess. You pray to her quite often, say, whenever someone has a sword pointed at you."

Arik grinned. "Mostly. Sometimes it's when mages are aiming at me. I prefer to make my own luck, and Tymora favors me quite often then."

Anomen sighed. "Very well, if you swear to me that you will pay the merchants back, with interest, and swear to cease stealing from now on, then I will be understanding."

"Interest? I said nothing about interest!" he said, sputtering.

Anomen just stared, although Arik noticed that he was slowly moving his hand towards his sword. "Oh, fine! Interest it is!" he said, throwing his arms up in disgust. "I swear, Im's gonna kill me..."

"Would you rather I?"

"Arik, Anomen, what'd you find?" Kyri said, entering the room and cutting off Arik's sardonic response.

"Three rogue stones and some encrypted papers," Arik said, taking a few steps away from the triumphant, but still glowering, helmite.

"Rogue stones?" She whistled. "Do you have any idea what-"

"We're selling them, not using them for magic," Arik said, interrupting her.

"But-"

"No."

"She uses gemstones for magic?" asked Anomen.

"Sorta, more like as material for enchantments," Arik replied.

"Arik, the equipment we could get from those is-"

"Ky..." Arik almost brought up Imoen, but then he saw the look in his sister's eyes. She knew that they had to use them for gold, but she wanted to joke a little bit. "I'd say five thousand gold is a little better than a shiny glow on a quarterstaff."

She grinned. "Really? What would you do with that kind of gold?"

He shrugged. "Buy something that actually works, maybe? You keep buying magic items for things I can do with two sticks and a nail."

"You can create a fireball with two sticks and a nail?" Anomen asked, doing a very poor job of hiding a grin.

Arik grinned. "I can do a lot with those sticks, but I might need a few more things. Like maybe a few of those alchemist fire flasks. Enough of those could work."

Kyri rolled her eyes. "So you'd buy out an apothecary with all that gold?"

"At an Apothecary, five thousand gold is a fortune. At a magic shop, it's pocket change."

Anomen shook his head. "Immoral earnings buying immoral goods. There is only one noble thing to do with gold."

"Hire a 'seamstress'?" asked Kyri, who grinned at Anomen's massive blush.

"Donate it to your patron deity, of course. Any other use of excess gold is immoral in nature," he said, as stoic as he could manage.

"Hi, I'm Arik, thief and backstabber extraordinaire, have we met?" Arik replied, grinning.

"I am sure that Tymora would appreciate the gesture, perhaps she will continue to favor you in future fights."

Arik barked a laugh. "There's grisly stories about those who tried to buy luck, Anomen. Doesn't tend to end well."

"And Oghma cares more about books than coin," added Kyri.

"You worship Oghma, Kyri?" asked Anomen, a warm, almost relieved, smile on his face.

She nodded. "I was raised in Candlekeep, almost everyone there worshiped the god of knowledge. Although I might've worshipped Mystra had I been born somewhere else."

Anomen's smile drained at that, and for good reason. Myrstra, the goddess of magic, had actually been slain when she had taken mortal form during the Time of Troubles. And Mystra had been slain by none other than Helm. The old Mystra, at least, but a new one was created soon after. She meant nothing by it, Arik knew. She was just saying, basically, how much she loved magic.

And possibly messing with the Helmite's head a bit.

"Oh, Arik," she went on, ignoring Anomen's reaction. "Yoshimo found this with some of the slaver's gear. I thought you might like it," she said, flicking a coin at him.

He caught it and grinned. It was a rather large coin, slightly bigger than a gold coin, golden in color but too still and hard to be made of solid gold. Perhaps nickel with gold plating. But what got him were the symbols impressed upon the two faces. On one side a woman's face surrounded by shamrocks, the symbol of Tymora, goddess of luck. On the other, a black antler in a field, the symbol of Beshaba, the goddess is ill fortune.

"A good luck charm? Flip it and see how your luck will turn out for the day?"

"No magic, but I figured you'd know that," she said, smiling.

"I don't understand," said Anomen.

"It's a trinket sold by less than noble merchants."

"Grifters is what they're called. Con artists, in a way," said Arik.

"Ah. You have an appreciation for those who can fool good people?"

"Well, given who we took this off..." At Anomen's glare, Arik shrugged. "It's just interesting, really. An affirmation that people will buy anything if the salesman is clever enough."

"Praising the-" Anomen started, then stopped as he saw Arik's face. "Yes, alright, you're a thief. Forgive me for wishing that you were even slightly noble."

"And don't you forget it," he said, grinning.

"Arik, think you can find Viconia? Yoshimo is gathering the rest of the spoils and Aerie has shepherded the kids together, but I can't find her anywhere in here."

"It's not that big of a building, Ky."

"Just go, Arik," she said, glaring at her brother.

He grinned and left the two alone, rolling his eyes while handing her the papers. "They're coded, probably a simple cipher. Looks like paperwork of sorts, the kind that a businessman would keep. Have fun," he said, winking.

As he left the room, the last thing he heard before the door closed was Kyri saying to Anomen, "Siblings, nothing but trouble for me. How about you?"

----------

It didn't take long to find Viconia, as Kyri apparently didn't try very hard to find her. She was standing outside the front door of the building, staring out into the night. There was probably something poetic about a woman with ebon skin staring into the silent night, but there was a reason Arik was a rogue rather than a bard. "Viconia," he said as a greeting.

She started, giving Arik a dark look before turning her head back to the street. "Arik. Are we ready to leave this den of slaves behind yet?"

He shrugged. "Maybe. Ky's talking to Anomen right now, though, so we've likely got a while yet. Why are you out here?"

"Because I choose to be," she replied, spitting out the words.

Arik gave her a blank look. "I'm just curious, you don't need to bite my head off."

"Someone has to be on guard, do they not? Or would you rather we be attacked unawares again?"

"Hm," he said, thinking that over for a moment. "Tell me, do you know what happens to a rogue who can't tell when someone's lying?" He waited for a few moments before answering his own question, saying, "A long time of nothing after a short period of chaos. Why are you out here?"

She snorted in annoyance, her voice dismissive. "Do you really care, or are you so bored as to ask me foolish questions all day long?"

He shrugged. "Nothing foolish about asking the question why. The most revealing answers can be from simple questions."

"What book did you get that from?"

"Not all my words of wisdom come from books, V."

"Which book?" she repeated, smiling in a not too friendly manner.

Arik chuckled nervously. "Honest truth? No idea. Some book I read a while ago, the saying just sorta stuck. Still true, though. And your answer is...?"

She sighed, aware that the rogue would not stop until she answered the question. "It is bright out."

Arik blinked at the strange statement. True, the moon was full and the stars were lit, but the time of day was still in that strange time between the late evening and very early morning. If he had to describe his surroundings, 'bright' would not be a term he would arrive at, especially since the spell that enhanced his vision had long since worn off.

She snorted again, this time in anger, and shook her head. "You do not understand, and that is why I did not tell you. Leave me in peace."

"_Why art thou so bundled up?" Dynaheir asked Arik._

_It was late in the Gate, and the wind coming off the ocean was chilling him to the bone, so he threw on an extra layer of clothes so that his teeth wouldn't rattle quite so much. Why anyone would ask that, Arik did not know. "It's freezing cold out, that's why!"_

_She smiled. "For thou, perhaps, and that is why thou shalt not last a single hour in Rasheman. Not every city is here on the Sword Coast."_

Arik blinked, the memory flashing in his head tearing open the wounds he was still trying to patch up. And, speaking of old wounds, a slice of pain cut through his chest, a long sword wound Arik remembered being from when he first met Viconia, and, as the original gash was almost enough to kill him, the replayed anguish weakened him considerably. He dropped to his knees, grunting audibly and making his vision go red for a moment before he could even try to disguise it.

"What is wrong with you now?" the priestess said, although concern did slip into her tone amongst the disgust. She moved to Arik's side, but he waved her off.

The pain faded, replaced by a dull ache as he climbed to his feet. That had been the worst of his wounds, "Nothing, just a bad memory."

"Bad memories seldom bring you to your knees, _jaluk_."

"Not important, I'm fine now," he said, cursing inwardly. "I think I know what you meant, though."

"Oh?" she said, eyeing him warily.

"Not many stars in the Underdark. Or moons, for that matter."

Viconia hesitated before nodding. "So, perhaps you are not as much of a fool as you seem."

Arik grinned. "High praise, although an old thief trick is to always seem less capable than you really are."

"You are an excellent actor, then," she said, smiling viciously.

"Thank you," he replied, face carefully blank. "You've been up on the surface for a while, though, I'd figure you'd be used to moonlight by now."

"I am drow, _rivvil_. I lived below the surface for much longer than you have been living at all." Her face did soften, however, and, to Arik's untrained eye at least, she seemed to gaze into the night sky almost wistfully. "When I have been on the surface, I seldom could afford to look up like this. I was always hurrying everywhere, my head ducked underneath a hood, and there was enough light to recognize that I was drow, even to your pathetic vision. There was very little time for stargazing, as you would say it."

"Had to throw that in, huh?"

"You would fault me for stating a fact? Truly, I do not know how you manage to walk straight in the dark with such poor eyes."

Arik smiled, saying nothing. It was a nice night, after all. Arik had warm thoughts of the moral high ground running through his head and a pouch full of valuable gems at his belt. Even the lingering trace of pain across his torso or the priestess' parting insult could not break his mood.

After a few minutes, though, he sighed and said, "I suppose we should go back inside and leave this place. The night will still be here in an hour and it'll return tomorrow. Ky better be done flirting with Anomen by now."

Viconia snorted at that. "I wonder what will happen when he finds out what she is?"

"She's an elf, Viconia, and my sister," Arik said stiffly, eyes narrowed.

"And a-"

"I know, and lets try not to say that out loud much, okay? There's lots of ears about."

Viconia shook her head in disgust. "She will need to tell Anomen, or he will find out some other way soon enough. Why does she pursue that fool, anyway?"

Arik barked a laugh. "He's a knight in shining armor. Well, a squire in shining armor, but shining armor nonetheless. I think she's read too many pretty books about princesses and the knights who come and save them."

"So, she wishes to be saved by the fool who needed rescuing twice in the last day."

"Yep, and she probably hopes that he can."

Viconia paused in thought for a moment, then nodded. "From her... divine problems."

"He is a cleric, after all."

"A paladin would be more useful for her."

"A paladin would cut you in two on sight."

"Did the helmite not attempt that?" said Viconia, a certain smile on her face.

"And didn't because Ky decked you." He sighed, and took his back from the wall. "Come on, let's go back inside. Gotta say goodbye to the holier than thou elf."

"You don't think she was correct about you?"

"She was trying to cope with killing something. We all went though that." Arik paused. "Well, almost all of us."

Viconia's eyes narrowed, and she pushed past Arik, back inside the slavers' den. "You know very little about me, _jaluk_. Do not presume anything."

He just sighed, and cursed at the heavens. "I was talking about Ky..."


	12. 12: The Job Hunt

_So, yeah, been a while... College + job search + WoW dead writer._

_Ain't gonna leave this story alone forever, tho! And please review, you have no idea how much that improves my writing speed!_

--

The swords met with a clang, Arik's effort enough to turn the larger katana aside. The curved blade, a weapon, Arik couldn't help thinking, that was specifically designed to cleave off body parts, swung around again, forcing him to narrowly dodge aside, his counterattack blocked easily by his opponent.

He pressed the attack again, but his opponent parried the blade easily, grinning all the while. "My friend," said the Kara-turan bounty hunter, "could you at least try to hit me?" His subsequent attack was deflected easily by Arik, who then tried to land a touch on Yoshimo's shoulder in response.

"I don't like hurting friends, Yoshimo. They just get so annoyed with me afterwards." Arik grinned, ducking under a swing at his neck. "It's interesting that you don't share my view."

"I am an expert at controlling my sword, Arik. Did you not claim the same as well?"

"I still don't like stabbing my friends."

Yoshimo smiled. "Kyri complains about it?"

"She complains about everything. Sometimes, I think she complains just because she can. That said, she does seems to have a particular issue with me sticking holes into my dueling partners."

It had been three hours since the party had returned from the slavers' den, and both a great deal and very little had occurred since then. Arik and Yoshimo had ventured into the government district of the city, and turned in both the troll's head and the still-living Haegan, along with the ciphered documents, to the cities officials for a rather significant bounty. Kyri and Viconia gave Hendak the good news about the rescued children, and got a bit of coin from him as thanks. And Anomen escorted Aerie to the circus, and reportedly was greeted with the most wonderful reward of all, a parent's joyful thanks. The coin Anomen received, however, was also welcomed by the rest of the party.

And, sure that he could find buyers for the looted gear from the slavers' den, Arik had that warm, fuzzy feeling that came from being paid five times for the same work.

It could have been six times, had Anomen not put his foot down on the casual thievery.

But, as long as the day could be, Kyri could not expect to earn any more before taking a good, long break. So while she stayed in the bar, looking for more work, she made it clear that everyone else could do whatever they wanted.

Anomen had left the Coronet, returning to his quarters in the Temple of Helm, supposedly to pray but more likely, according to Arik at least, to make sure that Viconia's healing had not cursed him to an early death. Arik and Yoshimo agreed to a friendly duel in the formerly gladiatorial pits, and Viconia...

"Is she still watching?" Arik whispered to his foe.

"I am afraid so. Why, do you think?"

Arik snorted, deflecting a half-hearted thrust by the bounty hunter. "Probably waiting for one of us to get stabbed so she can mock us."

"Or to prevent us from being slain," Yoshimo countered, countering with his blade shortly after.

Arik caught the katana on his hilt and, pulling it aside, he drew his dagger with his left hand and brought it to Yoshimo's throat. "Yield?"

"Yes," he said, rubbing his throat as the dagger was pulled away. "I had thought it was your rapier and my katana only?"

Arik grinned. "As some cynical bastard once said, 'only cheaters prosper'. Wish to go another round?"

"Of course."

The two rogues stepped away from each other, and raised their swords in salute. Yoshimo raised his katana above and behind his head, body square to the assassin, ready to cleave his target in two. Arik held his blade in one hand, pointed at Yoshimo's head and presenting as small a target to his foe as he could.

"You think yourself a ninja, correct?" asked Yoshimo.

"Ninja. That means 'the passing wind' in Kara-Tur? A sort of assassin?"

"Somewhat."

"No," he said, grinning. "It's foolish to try to move past a target, even in the dark of night. Better to stay in one place, where you know they'll come."

Yoshimo sighed. "I meant-"

"I know, but there's another reason why I'm not a ninja. Those ninja's use magic. I've never liked the stuff."

Yoshimo laughed, and began the duel with an overhead chop. "Your sister is a sorceress!"

Arik grinned, slapping the katana aside. "Why do you think I hate it? It made courting her far too difficult."

"You and Kyri..." he said, unable to keep the shocked look off his face.

"We're a strange family." He shrugged, at least until he had to block an opportunistic swing. "I was a young, human man, and she was a young, elven lady. It's the most overused romantic story in the realms, and we grew up in a library full of bad love stories. And we were young."

"Ah, young love," Yoshimo said, smiling faintly.

Arik snorted. "Young lust is a bit more accurate."

"Did you and she...?" he asked, the end of the sentence clear.

"I may be a killer, thief, cheater and generally amoral person, but I don't kiss and tell, so to speak."

Yoshimo laughed and swung hard, Arik barely able to turn the sword aside, his counter abandoned when Yoshimo followed up with a powerful slash waist high.

"What about you, Yoshimo? What's in your past?" Arik asked.

"Why?"

"Just curious," Arik said, this time not shrugging and trying to feint low, rolling away as the bounty hunter ignored it. "You hardly talk about yourself, but you seem to be somewhat local, given your knowledge of local bounties."

Yoshimo's smile flickered. "I am a bounty hunter. I came to Athkatla with the hope that I could earn gold with my skills, and I have been able to do so. My reasons for leaving Kara-Tur are private, and I do not wish to discuss them with anyone," he said, his voice going hard at the end, his eyes narrowed though his smile remained, albeit somewhat drained.

Arik raised his hands in placation. "Fair enough. Any interesting stories since arriving in Athkatla?"

"Yes. A little elven girl hired me to save her human sister."

Arik barked a laugh. "Did this elf have a human brother?"

Yoshimo nodded. "He was an odd person. He kept asking questions that he knew would get no answers."

"Why do you think he does that? Sorry, did," he corrected.

"A good question. Perhaps it was because he enjoyed futility?"

"What kind of man enjoys futility?"

Yoshimo smiled wide. "The sort of man who flirts constantly with a Drow."

Arik bridled a touch at this. "What do you mean constantly?"

"Every moment he is with her," Yoshimo deadpanned.

Arik's blade was lowered, his guard well down, and the bounty hunter took advantage with a strong horizontal strike knocking Arik's rapier away and finishing with a overhead chop, the sword well controlled and landing softly on the assassin's shoulder. "Yield?" Yoshimo asked smugly, preening at the open laughter from the audience.

"Yes, damn it!" As the katana was lifted, Arik grumbled, "Whatever happened to fighting fair?"

"'Only cheaters prosper', I believe. Would you wish to switch weapons?" the bounty hunter offered. "I do not understand why you use such a light blade. My katana would have easily torn through the troll's leg."

"A rapier is easier to control and much faster as well, good enough to pierce the skin of most humanoids and excellent at sliding into chinks in the armor. But," he shrugged, "why not?"

Arik sheathed his sword and unbuckled his sword belt. He was no fool, no matter how often Viconia said otherwise. Irenicus was not someone who wore armor, he did not swing a weapon, and was more likely to summon something massive and evil than go toe to toe with a trained swordsman. Arik considered that maybe it was time to rethink his choice of equipment. Going into battle with a better slicing blade could only help.

At least, so he thought before hefting it. Katana's are not tremendously large weapons, but Arik was used to the rapier's lightweight. Holding something three times heavier on the end of his arms was different to say the least.

Holding the katana low, he nodded at Yoshimo, who had made a few experimental twirls of the blade. The bounty hunter nodded back, taking up a decent facsimile of Arik's preferred fencing stance. "Any advice?" Arik asked.

"It is very easy to over swing with that blade. Attempt to check the swing if you will not hit your target. And you?"

"Don't try to stop a heavy sword with a parry. Just deflect it to the side, away from your body."

The two rogues approached each other, cautiously, and swung their weapons very carefully. Arik blocked the clumsy slashes with ease, but his counter-attack, a slow overhead swing, was easily slapped away by the bounty hunter.

The blades grew faster, as the fighters grew more accustomed to their weapons, and Arik couldn't help thinking back to when Khalid tried to teach him how to fight with a longsword. It wasn't a pretty time, especially the countless times that Khalid had knocked Arik on his rear or sent his sword flying away, not to mention the times that the flat of Khalid's sword had slapped Arik's behind after Arik made a foolish thrust.

Arik had to admit, the katana was a much better blocking sword. Yoshimo was striking almost as quickly as Arik could, and while his defensive moves were amateurish, Arik was still able to bring the heavier blade around to meet every test.

At least until the bounty hunter made an excellent feint for one who had never wielded a rapier before, managing a shallow cut on Arik's arm before he could knock the blade away.

"You said you'd never used a rapier before, Yoshimo," Arik muttered through clenched teeth.

Yoshimo did not bother with feigning innocence, merely smiling and saying, "I did not say that, only that I did not understand why you used one."

Arik scowled and took a ready stance again, inviting a small chuckle from the bounty hunter. Yoshimo began the duel again quickly, and the pair fought in silence.

Slowly, Arik was getting used to the heavy blade. His arms cried out in protest, but at least he was moving the sword around quickly enough. A few hard swings put the bounty hunter on the defensive for once, finally giving Arik time at last to actually _think_ about what to do next.

Unfortunately, thinking while dueling had become a difficult prospect for Arik. He had always enjoyed a duel, albeit not because of the act itself, but rather the company he kept while doing so. Khalid was just a generally pleasant person, and would never be afraid to give advice to his opponent, while Imoen, well, they would cross words while crossing blades more often than not.

It was hard for him to ignore the pain that came from thinking about them, but Arik had been getting better at it, partly because he had almost died from an errant thought. The moment he began to flash back to one of his favorite duels against his sister, he braced for the stab of pain. His vision flared red again, this time his body reliving one of his earliest injuries, a crossbow bolt that had thankfully hit the fleshy part of his shoulder, hurting like hell instead of killing him.

But once the moment had passed, and an opportunistic thrust by Yoshimo was knocked aside, Arik realized what was so familiar about this duel. Yoshimo, for all his experience with a variety of blades, was an _archer_, just like Imoen. He fought like someone who preferred his sword to be his last resort, keeping his foe away from him, much more willing to retreat than press the attack.

And when your sword is your last resort, you seldom practice fighting with what is truly your last resort.

Arik continued to press the attack, swinging harder and faster, albeit always in a way where he could be sure that he could pull it away if Yoshimo was too slow with the blade. He needn't have worried: the bounty hunter brought the rapier around each time, turning aside each swing with an ever-increasing level of panic. Until the last, when Arik caught the rapier upon the katana, pulled it up, stepped forward, and made a very purposeful strike with his knee.

After all, only cheaters prospered.

After a few silent, uneventful moments, Arik knelt down to the prone, but swearing, bounty hunter to recover his rapier and scabbard. "Sorry, but you did ask for it," he said, doing his very best to keep the smile off his face.

Arik stood up, and called out to the now cackling spectator. "Viconia, do you mind making sure that I didn't hurt him too much?"

He didn't wait for an answer, choosing to climb out the gladiatorial pit and make a grand, noble and above all dignified exit. The man's pride was hurting bad enough as it was, no need to add insult to injury.

At least, until he left the room, where he promptly burst out laughing. _Thank you Immy..._

--

Reentering the tavern's main room, he found his other sister quite easily. She had decided to find a table near the bar, reading through a tome she acquired only Oghma knew where, so she could entertain any possible opportunities to earn some more hard coin.

One such 'opportunity' was leaning over the table, in a rather swaggering manner. Arik certainly recognized the type making the offer, someone who made ogres look both rather weak and extremely bright, and the offer was most likely either a totally immoral proposition, or he was asking for sex. Given his current, non-inflamed status, Arik was betting on the former.

Kyri sent the thug away with a scowl on his face, and she then proceeded to turn back to her book, close her eyes, and slam it theatrically on the table a few times.

Arik walked up to her, staying out of sight until right next to her, bent over the book. "So," he said as deep as he could, "there's this guy who owes me some coin, and I was thinking-"

"Arik, by Oghma, if you finish that sentence you won't fill an urn," Kyri said, not even taking her eyes off the book.

"Is it really that bad?"

"Almost." She sighed. "There are three jobs that might actually help raise the coin we need. One of them, well, it's grave robbing with a dwarf with fewer morals than you."

"That's rather impressive..." Arik said, smiling slightly at the joke at his expense.

"The other two are outside the city. One is at this keep about a day's travel from here. The heir says that its been taken over by monsters and she needs help liberating it. Except she won't say what took over."

Arik nodded, realizing where she's going with this. "And, even if it's not an army of, oh, the worst monsters in Elminster's Ecologies, it's still a job for an army instead of five heroes. We'd just get overrun, and even if we succeed, it's two days, each way. By the way, what's the book?"

"I've been reading up on where Imoen might be. The temple of Oghma in the city gave me a book on mage prisons, and I don't want to leave her in any of them for that long, especially this one," she said, pointing at the open page.

"Spellhold? I thought that was a myth."

"It's the most likely place, if it exists. And, before you ask, no one knows where Spellhold is, or if they are, they aren't saying. And it'd still be a guess."

"So, anyway, what's the other job?"

"This hugely rich noble is willing to pay us a king's ransom to kill a few orcs," Kyri said, face blank.

"Gotcha, trap."

She shrugged. "Probably. To be honest, I really can't tell. He didn't seem to be lying, but neither was he telling the truth. It's... hard to explain. And, either way, it's twice as far from this other keep, the," she looked down at a piece of parchment," the De'Arnise Keep."

"De'Arnise? Was this girl red-haired, noble by stance but wearing ratty clothing?" Arik asked.

Kyri smiled. "Carefully ratty, I'd say."

"That sounds about right, from what I've heard at least. She's one of those 'for the people' nobles, all into charity and giving, sorta as a way to show how great a person they are. Still, she sounds desperate, or at least that's what the people I've talked to have said."

"How..."

Arik shrugged. "People talk. Me and Yoshimo didn't have much to do coming back from turning in the bounties, so we asked around for juicy gossip. And no one gossips like wealthy women, especially when the rumor is about _other_ wealthy women."

Kyri laughed. "Well, she's honest, looks more afraid of losing her home than deceiving us. She even says she'll help..."

"If there's nothing else, and we can't rob some local noble blind, I don't see what choice we have."

She sighed. "No burglary, Arik."

He grinned at his sister. "What if I convince Anomen?"

Kyri rolled her eyes. "Very well, Arik. If you can convince Anomen, a servant of the most lawful god in existence, to let you burgle an innocent, then go right ahead." She sighed, glancing back at her book. "How much gold do we have?"

"I said noble, Ky, not innocent." Arik closed his eyes, going through the calculations once again, if only in the hope that the answer would be rather higher this time around. "Seven-five, maybe eight? A lot of what we have is gear and gems, Ky, and I don't know the best places to sell it. If I find the right people, and I have good luck bargaining with them, I might be able to get eight-five. Maybe," he added for emphasis.

"We got lucky, didn't we?" Kyri said, sadly. In their experience, good luck was often quickly followed by bad, such as the time they finally found the Iron Throne, who had seemed responsible for all the attacks on Kyri, only to be framed for their murder, and thrown into the jails of Candlekeep. And then, when they broke out, they had to fight through an army of doppelgangers in order to reach safety.

Not to mention how their defeat of Sarevok was followed only a week later by a cheap inn, drugged food and a villain that made Sarevok look cuddly by comparison...

"Well, we've been pretty unlucky recently. Maybe eight thousand gold is Tymora's way of making it up to us," he said, well aware it'd do nothing to convince her otherwise.

"Maybe." She shook her head, fighting off a yawn. "We'll have better luck finding honest work in the morning. Who knows, maybe Anomen will find something."

Arik smiled, although the expression did not reach his eyes. "At this rate, we'll be able to afford Im's rescue in three more days. No worries, Ky."

Kyri said nothing, though her eyes told Arik more than enough. If Imoen were around, she'd remark that it look like someone kicked Kyri's puppy.

Somehow, Arik couldn't bring himself to say that. As he walked away to his room, reminded of the goddess of good fortune, he dug the good luck charm they had looted from the slavers, and gave is a toss for no reason at all.

It came down Beshaba. _It's a good thing I don't believe this coin works,_ Arik mused.

--

For all of Lehtinan's faults, and there were a number of them, Arik could at least praise him for purchasing heavy drapes for the windows.

When he finally retired, Arik's best estimates put sunrise in a mere hour or two. While there were few ways better to wake up than with the morning sun illuminating the room in a healthy glow, Arik had always found that the magic was somewhat lost unless you had gotten eight solid hours beforehand.

Yawning, deep, he began to undress for the night, or what he was determined to think of as night.

He unbuckled his dagger's sheath from his back and slid it under the pillow.

His rapier and scabbard went under the bed, carefully positioned to allow him to draw it without standing first.

He pulled a sun-rod from his pack and placed it under the bed as well, perfectly positioned for throwing on a moment's notice.

With all the precision that went in the placement of his weapons, a casual observer would be easily surprised with how his armor, leggings, gloves, and belt were thrown haphazardly into what resulted in a rather inglorious heap on a chair, with only the recent sewer adventure saving his boots from the same treatment.

Arik wasn't all that tired, but he knew that if he didn't get some sleep now, in an hour or two he might not be able to get any.

Still, fighting for one's life and a good bit of dueling afterwards was bound to tire even the hardiest of adventurers, and so when he collapsed into the bed, only a muffled "Ow" could be heard from the room.

_That's the trouble with sleeping with a dagger under the pillow_, his last thoughts before drifting asleep.

--

"_Is it open yet?" asked Arik._

_"Stop asking!" Imoen whispered back, biting back a curse. "No one's coming, right?"_

_"Nope." He moved around a bit in the brush, his legs cramping up under him, shifting his cloak around to keep out of the rain as best as he could. A dark and stormy night, but sometimes these things just happened. Jahiera and Khalid were enjoying a night together, or at least that was what Jaheira said she was aiming for. Kyri had her nose buried in a book, discussing the more intricate aspects of magical theory with Dynaheir, with Minsc watching over his witch with almost alarming dedication._

_Which left the two thieves with nothing to do but either read or perform mischief. Somehow, the rest of the party thought that they would be hard pressed to get into trouble during a dark and stormy night, but Arik and Imoen had already cased out this house, what could only be a noble's house given the positioning and what decor they could see from outside. It was empty, likely because the owners were living in a city at the moment. What could be the harm in taking from one who had too much so that those without much, such as themselves, could live a better life?_

Or a longer life_, Arik couldn't help thinking. One week in the adventuring profession had already begun to instill the cynicism that went hand in hand with the trade._

Let's see... Right now I would be in Winthrop's, tucking into a nice piece of chicken, warm and happy and listening to Kyri whine about Gorion's reading assignments or Imoen grumble about what chores Winthrop had given her as a punishment, and what prank she'd pull to get back at him for it. _Arik sighed and shook his head. He knew that dwelling on the past too much would only make him break down in tears._

_"Gotcha!" cried Imoen from the door, somehow managing to whisper a yell. The door opened with a creak, and Imoen slipped inside, seeing no one. Arik took one last look around, making sure no one was spying on them, and entered the dry house._

_Arik broke a sunrod on his knee, the alchemical wonder glowing faintly before Arik smothered the glow with some cloth. Imoen did the same, and began to creep upstairs, while Arik checked downstairs, just as planned. After a cursory search found no residents, they began to take stock of what was there._

_A few candlesticks, expertly made out of silver. They ignored them, unsure if they could find a fence nearby that would buy them. Too well made, so to speak._

_Two old swords, relics of some ancient war. Good iron was expensive these days, but no way Jahiera or Khalid wouldn't notice their sudden addition._

_Careful inspection of a desk found a hidden compartment with a number of gemstones, which were quickly pocketed. However, they were of the cheap variety, no way they could fetch much._

_"This is just sad," Imoen said, rechecking one of the upstairs desks. "Ya think that someone livin' here would have somethin' worth stealin'."_

_Arik shook his head, lifting up what few paintings he could find looking for another hidden stash. "Maybe they took all of their valuable stuff with them when they left. You know, to prevent them from being stolen by some dastardly thieves."_

_"We're not dastardly!"_

_"You're right, we're the noble sort, breaking into this house for no reason other than us being bored," Arik said, rolling his eyes._

_"C'mon, you know we're gonna need the gold. We've already been attacked by three bounty hunters goin' after Ky. And, in case you didn't notice, the bounty's been going up."_

_Arik sighed again. "Which means that we're gonna be attacked more and more often by those with better gear."_

_"Damn right. Isn't Khalid always talkin' about 'a-a-any edge you can get, t-t-take'?" Imoen said, dropping into a rather excessive stutter, poorly imitating the Harper._

"_Something tells me a Harper wouldn't quite agree with this edge."_

_She stuck her tongue out at her brother, Arik grinning and rolling his eyes in response. Just by coincidence, his eyes happened to take in a nearby bookshelf, shelf after shelf filled with books. "Hey, Im, bookshelf."_

"_I think ya spent too long in the library, Arik. Not that many valuable books out there."_

"_Hiding place, Im."_

_She smacked her palm against her forehead and hurried over to the bookshelf, carefully removing each book one by one and opening them briefly. Arik joined in and, halfway through their third shelf, "Ha! Nice!" Imoen said, digging out a small wand and dropping the hollowed book on the floor._

_Arik glanced at the wand and looked down at the discarded book. "Wand of Lightning. Fires a lightning bolt at whatever it's pointed at when you say the command word."_

"_How'd you know that?" Imoen asked in shock. He'd never before had shown any skill in identifying magical items._

"_Says so in the book," he said, pointing down and trying not to grin. "One charge left, apparently."_

_Imoen sighed. "Cheater." Her eyes widened as she read the note for herself. "Oh. This is an old wand. Really old."_

"_So?"  
_

"_It's the old version of the Lightning Bolt spell."_

_Arik sighed. Sometimes Imoen could be as bad as Kyri when it came to magic. "So?" he repeated._

_Imoen rolled her eyes. "It bounces off walls. The new one just goes poof when it hits one."_

_Arik whistled. "Sell as an antique?"_

"_Nah. It's a spell Kyri still can't cast. 5 cop says we'll need it."_

"_Ha! No bet."_

_Imoen paused for a moment. "You're hating this, aren't you?"_

_Arik figured that this wasn't the time for a bad joke, although he was tempted. "Which this? Stealing from people who probably don't deserve it? Or the constant danger and needing to kill people?"_

"_Guess that answers that," she said sadly._

_Ark sighed. "It's more exciting, I'll say that. Meeting new and interesting people-"_

"_And killing them," joked Imoen, a touch of dark humor so unlike her, Arik couldn't help but notice._

"_Well, yes, sometimes. But we've done some good, and," he lightly jabbed at Imoen's shoulder, drawing her eye, "can't beat the company."_

_If it were Kyri, she'd blush and smile politely. It being Imoen, however, earned him a half-hearted push in the shoulder and a rather more wry smile. "Cute."_

"_You're not thinking of running off, are ya sis?" he asked, a fake smile plastered onto his face._

_Imoen shook her head. "And leave you to watch Ky? She wouldn't last five minutes without me!" she said, laughing at Arik's theatrical scowl. She leaned forward, pausing only an inch from Arik's face, and said, "'sides, _bro_, you couldn't go ten-_

--

Arik's dream was broken by two things. The first, a loud pounding on the door, had little overall effect on him, merely taking him from asleep to only rather groggy.

The second, however, took him the rest of the way, and a good deal further. That same, cursed agony, awoke as he did and began to vividly remind him of all of the close calls he ever had. The shooting pangs of a number of arrows and bolts. Three broken ribs from when an ogre had caught him unaware, ribs that had nearly punctured his lung. Long strokes of agony across his back, the remnants of a flanker's sword that had nearly sliced his spine.

And, as all this was fading, a single, sharp stab of pain, from a helmite's armored elbow smashing into his nose.

"Tymora," Arik croaked, once he had finally recovered, "save me from spells with a sense of humor."

"_Wael_. I do not think Tymora can save you from this curse."


End file.
